Cutting Edge
by ckittykatty
Summary: Danny hasn't been well, he's acting suspicious and having odd mode swings. One day Sam and Jazz decide to snoop and find what's wrong with him. Will they dislike what they discover? And what will Danny think of the outcome? The painful, painful out come. No PP *DISCONTINUED*
1. Chapter 1

_He sat there and stared at nothing. Why? What would there be to stare at? What did he deserve to stare at? He breathed heavily and rocked back and forth, clutching the knife tight in his hand. He messed up again. Yet again, another failure. That's all that seem to come from him: failure._

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><p>Danny happily waltzed down the stairs, humming. His mom was in the kitchen, which normally would have worried him, but today... Today Danny was overly happy.<p>

Jazz looked at her brother carefully. _Why is Danny so happy? I mean, not like I don't _want _him to be, but... this isn't normal. _"Hey, Danny! What are you doing?" she called. He looked up and raised his over expressive eyebrows.

"Nothing much, why Jazz?" He walked into the kitchen, and, sure enough, his mother was making dinner. "What are making?" he asked, prepared to bolt out the door if, he feared, it was hot dogs.

Maddie smiled. "Meatloaf!" she said happily. Danny's eyes widened and he ran out the door, leaving Jazz to the mercy of the intoxicating fumes their mother claimed was "meatloaf".

"Mom, maybe I should make dinner tonight," Jazz tried.

Maddie simply shook her head. "Now, honey, I'm the mother of the house, I should be making dinner for you two all the time. Let me handle it."

Jazz had to do something to keep Danny in that wonderful mood. That dinner... That meatloaf-really, she wasn't sure she should _call_ it _meatloaf_-smelled like something died in the oven. "Are you Mom?" Jazz started, not sure if it will be believed, "'Cause I think I... just saw a ghost outside! Yeah! Out the window!"

Maddie dropped, literally, what she was doing, a side of salad plummeting to the floor. She ran to the window, saw nothing but believed her daughter. "You stay, honey, you're not as experienced in ghost fighting as your father and me, we'll handle it. Jack," she called through the ceiling, to their bedroom, "we have a ghost spotted. Arm yourself." Jazz was sure the people in China could hear him dashing (hopping and a bit of falling) down the stairs.

He instantly noticed Jazz. "You stay here, Jazzy Pants, and guard the fort with Danny."

Jazz nodded to him as he flew into action, out the door. Maddie came over to her and kissed her on the forehead, a good-bye-we'll-be-back-after-Jack-decides-we-lost-it kiss that Jazz knew too well. Who knew how long it would take that persistent man to give up?

She waved as her mother departed too. It only took half an hour to fix the dinner, so she went up to Danny's room.

"Hey, Danny," she called.

"Come in." It was like he knew. She opened the door enough to stick her head in.

Danny was laying on his bed, staring at the stars that had been there all too long. "Dinners almost ready."

He turned to her with a I'm-not-eating-anything-like-possessed-wieners-again look. She winked. "I made dinner." Danny shot straight up and walked to the door, past his sister.

Jazz felt unnerved. Probably her older sister sense. Something wasn't right.

**yep! anoder story! when will i ever stop?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow! Just wow... I can't believe it. I might've got only one review, but so many story alerted my story! So happy! Next time, review please...**

"Well, it's better than evil hot dogs," came Danny's sideways complement.

"I know, those things tried to eat me." Jazz shivered at the memory. "What's worse, Dad used them as defence... Freaky little things..."

Danny and Jazz were sitting in the kitchen, at their round blue table, eating the fixed meatloaf. What they were grateful for: Their food wasn't trying to kill them.

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><p>Maddie and Jack came pretty late, and, by the looks of it, empty handed.<p>

"I'm tellin' ya, Mads," Jack started, past the disappointment that loomed as their uninvited shadow, "If we could just find Phantom..."

"I know, Jack, it disgusts me how he gets away so fast."

"We didn't even see him..."

Danny's eyes were wide as he ran back to his room, as to not nauseate his parents farther.

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><p><em>So,<em> I thought to the knife, _do I disgust _you_?_

I received no answer.

"I guess not," I said out loud. I stared at the stained blade. Green and red. Reminded me of Christmas... I hated Christmas.

"Why do I disgust them? What did I do? Protect myself?" I shook my head. "That's stupid... to hate your own son... Why?" I whispered the last bit.

Half of me, not as in Phantom and Fenton, wanted to chuck it across the room.

The other half... Well, you get the idea.

I transformed into Phantom, for this is the one who did wrong... Right? Forget it, words are too confusing.

_So... If you're wondering Jazz, this is what I do at night... When I'm bad._


	3. Chapter 3

**WOW! FIVE REVIEWS! HAPPY DANCING ('CEPT I DON'T DANCE)**

Tossing and turning is all that is produced that night from me. I just couldn't sleep for some reason. I sat up, in my white tank top and boxers, and glared around my shadowed blue room, as if the answer to my insomnia hid there.

Just the usual hand made rockets and space program posters. I groaned and flipped back into the pillow. _This'd be the perfect night for the Box Ghost to come._

A noise. In the hall. It might've been Jazz, or even my parents. Whoever, or whatever, it was, I went to the door to investigate.

The hall, being pitch black as it was, was empty, save for the three doors, two on my side and one across the hall. It was blue, like the rest of the house, and the only way to tell the difference between my door and my parents was the fact that mine had stickers and posters. Such as a "DANNY'S ROOM" on a flag.

I sighed. There was nothing. Part of me hoped there would be. I was bored out of my fourteen year old mind. A little action wasn't too much to ask for.

A blue wisp. Finally, some adventure.

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><p>I hate that stupid ghost. I really do. I know I said it'd be perfect for him to come... But did he <em>have<em> to know where my parents kept the boxes? I mean, come on! Whatever. I remembered that fight perfectly for a reason.

It was the first time I lost to the Box Ghost.

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><p>Sure, maybe if I wasn't being so cocky, I would not have lost.<p>

So it was all my fault.

My ghost sense had gone off and I heard a noise in the lab, so, of course, I transformed and went down there, via intangibility. I saw the small roundish man hovering in the lab, looking around. He spun and said one of his most annoying phrases, "Beware! For I am the Box Ghost!"

"I'm well aware of who you are, thanks for broadcasting it." I sighed and looked around for the Fenton Thermos.

The Box Ghost used that time to strike. "Beware of my cardboard! Beware of the brown _color_!" He throw a pile of empty boxes at me.

I simply sighed again and became intangible. "Seriously, dude, you're lucky I can't get to sleep... I probably should, I have a test tomorrow. Maybe I should study," I rambled.

"There will be no time for sleep or tests! Take my boxy might!"

"Whatev—Woop!" I cried, dodging more boxes.

"Ooh, I wonder what are in these?" he cooed as he lifted a blanket revealing some old boxes of my parents. With my luck, they were covered in phase proof goop.

"Ya know, you should probably leave those alone..." Too late, I realized. He levitated the pile and thrusted them to me. I, of course, used my intangibility. Not like that worked or anything.

"Oof!" I cried as I hit the wall behind me with force.

"Ha! I am the Box Ghost!" he said rapidly. He phased through the ceiling and left me covered in stupid boxes.

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><p>"I hate that ghost, I hate that ghost, I hate that ghost," I mumbled as I walked up the stairs to my room. Sure, that wasn't the first time I had ever lost to the Box Ghost, but I didn't like the fact that it was in my own home!<p>

I continued grumbling as I ascended the steps. "Ya know, maybe I was a little too sure of myself."

I heard a groggy "Danny?" come from the landing.

"Hey, Jazz. It's just me." I arrived at the landing after a few seconds, meeting up with Jazz.

"What were you doing up?" she yawned.

I shook it it off and passed her. "The Box Ghost, nothing to worry about."

She blinked. "You need to go to bed, Danny."

"Got it, Mom!" I called behind me, heading into my room.

As I heard her laugh, I thought I caught an eye-roll.

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><p>I walked toward my bed, suddenly feeling sleep nagging at me like my sister. I dropped myself onto the blue comforter and wrapped my arms around the pillow. My eyes shot open as my hand found a curious item I had hidden there earlier. I gulped. I didn't want <em>that<em> found. In truth, I didn't want to find it myself. I didn't want that.

I pulled it out. _I can't believe I let the Box Ghost get away! I mean, _the Box Ghost_! Seriously!_

The instrument stared at me, furiously, daring me to do it.

_Do it, come on, I dare ya._

_I don't want to! _I cried mentally to it. _Well, I _was_ a bit full of myself. Maybe this is all my fault!_

Of course... that was a one time thing, though! Well, a two time.

The metal, stained only twice, but enough, was there. In my hand. It dared me.

I never turn down a dare.

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><p><strong>i no this one is short, im sorry. once we get deeper, they get longer. promise. now, just click that little button there... go on, it dont bite. BITE! i do, though<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Awesome! So happy! Next chappie!**

"Hey, Sam," Jazz heard her brother's voice answer the phone. She'll never know how he always seems to know who it is. Oh wait, they had caller ID. Smart.

"No, not today. Really? Man, I wish I could go," he said as he entered the living room. He waved to Jazz as he flopped onto the couch. "No... Are you sure? Sam... Fine, see ya. Really? Tomorrow?" He nodded, then noticed that Sam couldn't see him. "Okay," he said as he pressed the end button.

"What was that about?" Jazz asked glancing at her brother then back to the TV.

"Sam wanted to go to the Nasty Burger, a special or something, but I couldn't go. Then she told there was a ghost. I didn't believe her at first, till I heard Technus on the other end. I gotta go. If Mom and Dad ask where I am, lie." He ran to the front door and Jazz heard it slam.

_Now what would be a good lie?_ she thought to herself. He could be at the library. He's been there before. Like twice, but still.

Yeah, that's a good lie.

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><p>"Danny!" Sam cried. It was a nice evening, the smell of rain, a fresh spring smell. Even though it was February. It was the kind of weather that cleared the sinuses of people with allergies. Not that Danny had any. No, just a battle with Technus. This type of weather was more Sam. Over cast, dark, rainy smell. Danny preferred the sun and the water park.<p>

Danny hit the wall. He hated Technes 2.2. "Dude, seriously!" he cried as he hit the wall again. More like slammed there. Repeatedly.

"I, Technus, will single handedly defeat the Ghost Boy!" He laughed evilly then. Can you say, "annoying"? How 'bout "Technus"? They mean the same.

"Over my dead body!" Danny yelled as he intangibly escaped through the wall.

"That is the point, young one!" Technus activated a blade system, causing Danny's eyes to widen.

"Hey, those look kinda sharp," he said with a nervous laugh.

"Also the point!" Technus cried as he went toward Danny with them. Danny expertly dogded, but one nearly found home anyway.

It was aimed for his chest, that much was obvious. As Danny maneuvered out of the way, it sliced across his left wrist. He held it to his chest. "Hey! That hurt!" It wasn't too deep, considering. Considering it was going about seventy miles per hour. Talk about fast.

"As I, Technus, intended it to!"

Danny glared at him, then he turned to look at Sam. She held up the Thermos and nodded.

"Well, this is intended, too," he said with a grin. He moved out of the way for Sam to use the Thermos, but somehow, Technus evaded the blue light. He then disappeared in a swirl of green.

"Just great, he got away," Danny said as he landed next to Sam.

"Danny—" Sam started, but Danny had flown away.

In truth, he shouldn't have. He should've stayed there. Maybe, none of this would've happened. Sam would've made him feel better, that's for sure.

Now he was lost in a sea of self loath.

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><p><strong>hope you like it! sorry so short, i told ya, soon, my readers, soon. ps, this is how it happened, the next chapter will continue off<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**Wow, you guys make me so happy. And, apparently, I make you guys really depressed. I like to share...**

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><p>The taste of death. That is what I get from my most hated friend, my favorite enemy. It was sorta metallic... The taste of death. I got that from the knife. It was kinda nice. Though, it was always on the tip of my tongue. When I was human that is. When I was a ghost, the taste of life, full and vibrant and... and <em>happy<em>, was there. It was also nice. The taste of death was rusty, a rusty metal knife that I kept under my pillow.

Not for long.

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><p>Sam walked into my room and smiled. "Hey, Danny," she said, waving, as if to get my attention. She walked over to the foot locker she always sat on.<p>

"Hey, Sam, what ya doing here?" I asked, leaning into my pillow.

"I just wanted to see you... Ya know, we could go catch Technus, still... If ya wanna, that is." It seemed to me that her voice was shrinking. Was it shrinking?

I remembered, for some reason, when I came home, an hour earlier.

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><p>I was holding my wrist, it hurt worst than at first. Blood... Even some ectoplasm... Just seeping out...<p>

"Danny?" I heard Jazz's voice ask from the living, the bright light of the television's commercials broadcasted on the wall. "Is that you?"

I nodded. I didn't say anything. She walked out to the hall. "Danny! Your wrist! Is it hurt?"

Another nod. "What happened?" she demanded, taking me but the opposing arm.

"Uh... Technus..." It was like I had difficulty remembering. I walked silently up the stairs with her, to her room. I hadn't been in here since I ripped off the heads on her stuffed animals. I received a kinda bad feeling. Was that wrong of me? Shouldn't I have asked, or something. That was the reason for what came out of my mouth next. "Sorry about the stuffed animals," I said, eying the pile of headless bears and lions.

Jazz blinked and looked over to where I was looking. I noticed her frown. "It's okay, I mean... It's fine," she said, dancing around the subject, as she got down on all fours and reached underneath her bed. Out she pulled a large white box with a red plus on the top. A medical kit.

I held out my wrist for her, didn't even wince when she sprayed the anti-bacterial chemical. She wrapped it up patted the back of my hand. I was set to go. But the animals... They were still on my mind. I felt so guilty. I didn't fell like me. I did it in the first place, why do I care so much? "Jazz?"

"Hmm?" she asked, placing the kit in its rightful spot. "What is it, Danny?"

"I fell sorta bad about your stuffed animals..." I started but, of course, chickened out.

Jazz glanced at them and grimaced again, like it was a painful memory. "I said it was okay, Danny," she said, ushering me out the door.

"I could buy you some new ones," I offered. I was most definitely broke, but I had to do _something._ I just couldn't idle and let Jazz be stuffed animal-less. I just couldn't.

"I said it was fine!" she yelled slamming the door in my face. I guess it served me right. Later, I realized all I was doing was rubbing salt in the wound. Idiot!

I walked into my room and sat, silently, on my bed. Suddenly, I realized, I was picking at the bandage on my wrist. I got through it and made it to the actual wound. It only took seconds to notice that it hurt, but a part of me was saying, _Don't_ _you think you deserve it? You were bad... Bad people deserve pain... YOU deserve pain!_ I just shook my head, but continued scratching. I pulled my hand away, some power within me somehow... _fought_ it. I don't know. I raised it to my face. My fingers were decorated with shiny red, but my wrist no longer hurt. I glanced at it, and regret that and much more. It was gashed open, ugly. But... but it didn't hurt. Why not? I shook my head. It's not like I saw bone, surely I would faint, but it was still terrible. I shook my head again.

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><p>Sam looked at me, as if she sensed I was remembering something atrocious, so unpleasant. I raised an eyebrow. "What?"<p>

"Nothing... Danny are you sure you're okay? I mean, you don't seem like it."

"Don't worry," I said softly, "I'm fine."

Sam smiled and I helped her to the door. "See you Monday?" she asked, standing on the porch steps, one boot on a step higher than the other, as if she would take off, leaving me, and the question unanswered. Perhaps this is why I answered so quickly. "Yeah."

Sam seemed hurt. Like I answered as fast as I did to get rid of her. Never, Sam. Never. "Bye," I said slower, a small smile somehow finding my face, a face that belonged to an undeserving creature.

She smiled her purple lipped smile. "Bye, Danny."

As I watched her walk off, I thought I felt a small, depressed part of me leave. "Bye, Sam."

That small part might haunt Sam. I shook my head. What if she felt this way? No, I shook it again. I mustn't let that happen. I can't let this affect anyone I love. I just can't.

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><p><strong>how are you liking it? theres only ONE way to answer that. Click. The. BUTTON! sorry so short! i promise! longer soon! maybe even next chappie! ps, really important!<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**Edited... accidentally...**

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><p>The following Monday, Sam, Tucker and Jazz exited Casper together, all of them noting Danny's absence, which was due to the detention he got from Lancer.<p>

Jazz sighed. She looked over at Sam and Tucker. "Hey... Has Danny seemed... _distant_ to you guys?"

Sam glanced at Jazz. "No... He's fine, Jazz." Which was sorta true... though he did seem odd at lunch...

"Yeah," added Tucker. "Sure, he was a little weird at lunch, but he's fine. You gotta give him room, Jazz."

Jazz began groping her purse and Sam read this move instantly. "He's fine, Jazz, really." she repaeted to cease Jazz's actions, but perhaps to enforce her belief as well. "Really."

Jazz sighed again as the Fentons' house came by. "This is where I get off, see ya guys later?"

"Sure, and Danny," Tucker replied.

Jazz smiled at them and entered her house.

"Hey, Jazzy Pants." Jazz winced at the pet name her father assigned her. "Where's Danny?" he asked, once in sight of the door.

"He got detention with Lancer again..." Jazz sighed for the third time and started up the stairs. She paused. "Hey, Dad?"

"Hmm?" he asked, already heading to the kitchen for his fudge.

"Could you tell me when Danny gets home?" she asked in her princess pose, a head cocked to the side and her eyes slightly squinted, a big smile produced.

Jack smiled back. "Will do, Jazzerincess!" He finished his way to the fudge. Jazz continued up the steps.

She paused once at Danny's door. "There's something up with you..." she whispered to it. She looked around, as if to make sure no one else was there, and ducked inside his room.

"Something's up... And I'm gonna find out." She searched the whole room, but found nothing. "There's gotta be something!" she cried.

"What are you doing in here?" a voice asked from the door.

"Danny!" she exclaimed as she spun to face him.

"Why are you in my room?" he asked. "What were you looking for?"

"Nothing! I swear!"

"Get out!" he growled, pointing a finger out of his door and at her own.

"But Danny—!"

"Out!"

She sulked past him, head down in shame.

Danny huffed as he made his way to his bed. Lying down, he wondered why Jazz was in there.

_What was she looking for? What... Does she not trust me?_

_Does she not trust me...?_

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><p>The temptation. The urge. It lived. It breathed. You fed living, breathing things. Things that you fed, grew. <em>It<em> grew.

So I went to the place where you fed living, breathing, growing things.

But this needed a different type of nourishment.

It was so shiny, and small.

I ran in my room in my socked feet as quietly as possible, as to not wake my family because it was after midnight. Once I made it to the safety of my room, I opened my mouth. To breath. To scream. To puke. I don't know why, I just did.

I looked at the knife again. So pretty, so pretty. And tempting. I raised it to my wrist and pushed.

The pain.

The taste of death.

All there.

For me.

I pulled away, that small part of that did that last time, and frowned.

That's just it. All I did was frown.

When you got hurt you suppose to cry or scream or even wince.

But all I did was frown.

What was wrong with me?

Was I not normal?

Did I not respond to pain as I should?

I ran and dove for my bed, my new safe haven. I quickly hid my knife under my pillow, where I believed it to be safe.

I later found I was wrong.

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><p>"Danny...?" a soft voice called from outside my door. Probably remembering how I yelled at her Monday.<p>

"Yes?" I asked, turning my head a bit so I wasn't completely talking to my pillow.

"I know it's Saturday and all and you want to sleep in and spend it with your friends—"

"Jazz," I said, getting up and walking to the door to open it. "If you want to spend the day together then... Sure."

She blinked. Twice. Together. Really fast. To insure she heard correctly, she asked, "Really?"

"Yeah, I mean, your my sister. Why wouldn't I want to spend the day with my favorite sister?"

She frowned her bottom-lip-disappearing frown and said, "Danny, I'm your _only _sister."

I winked, oh so sarcastic. "Which makes you the perfect candidate."

"Just get ready," she said, probably rethinking her choice to spend the day with me. I laughed and shut the door.

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><p>"Why?" I practically wined.<p>

"What's wrong with it?" Jazz asked, looking at the building.

"Jazz, I hate the library."

"We're just going to get a few books in the psychiatric area and go where ever you want."

"Fine," I mumbled with crossed arms as we headed up the steps. I didn't want to be here, but I was walking up them too.

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><p>"Danny?" Jazz called to me. "Could you get that book for me?" she said, pointing toward a book that was "too high" for her.<p>

"Which one?"

"The blue one!" she shouted, her voice a few book cases away.

I walked over and looked at my predicament. "Jazz!" I yelled. "They're all blue!" Which was true, just different shades of it.

"Then just grab one!"

So I did. I reached grabbed the first to touch my hand. I read the title.

_Dealing with Self Endangerment, You and Your Self Harming Problems: Cutting_

I dropped the book like a hot potato.

"Danny!" Jazz came from behind me.

"I'm sorry!"

"Why'd you do that?"

"It gave me a paper cut!" I defended.

Cut.

Wrong choice of words.

"Still no excuse," she muttered, bending over to pick it up. She placed it on top of her ever growing, unstable looking stack.

Jazz was smart, all she had to do was read one sentence to figure it out.

I had to get that book back.

"Hey, Jazz? I thought we were going to go where I want next? What happened to 'get a few books and go...'?"

"I promise, Danny. Just let me check these out, then we'll go."

Jazz brushed past me, on her way to the front desk.

I had to get that book back.

I ran in front of her and spread my arms wide, blocking her way. She looked ticked.

"Let me help with those," I said with a smile.

"I got it, Danny," she growled.

She went past me again.

I just _had_ to get that book back!

Jazz had a great head start on me and was halfway to the librarian. I started to run toward her, bumping into other people who obviously don't have a life to spend a Saturday at the most boring place in the world, including a blond girl over loaded with books. But I didn't need blond, I needed red. I needed Jazz.

Jazz had made it to the desk by now and I had no other option. I ran and dived as the librarian grabbed the top book. As I fell, I grabbed the book and landed roughly on the carpeted ground.

I looked up, my hand forearm up in the air with the book, at a confused elderly lady with a white bun and a missing bottom lipped Jazz. Jazz was pis—mad. Jazz was mad.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

So I answered. Er... Well, sorta. "I said I wanted to help."

She snatched the book, leaving my hand open. "I said I was fine."

She handed the book to the woman with a sweet, forced smile as I watched the nightmare happen above me.

Once she finished, she turned to me. "Get up."

Really, she didn't give me a chance. She grabbed my extended hand and yanked, pulling me to my feet.

She walked to the door, me following her steps.

"So, could we go to the Nasty Burger?" I asked, innocently.

"Sure," she said, forgetting the "argument" we had, "after I put these books away."

"Sounds like a plan."

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><p>We walked into the Nasty Burger as I called, "Sam!" and waved to the goth mentioned.<p>

She waved back and smiled. "Hey, Danny. How'd you know we were gonna be here?" she asked, gesturing to Tucker at the counter.

I laughed. "Where are we every Saturday?"

"Hey," she defended, "sometimes we're at the mall."

"True," I surrendered.

Sam and I sat in our booth, waiting for Tucker and Jazz, who were talking at the cashier. Sam shifted in her seat, akwardly. "Danny... I was wondering... Do you think we could spend the night at your house, Tuck and me?"

Before I could say anything, like "Heck, no!", Jazz came prancing and said benignly, "Of course!" to save me. More like murder.

Any other time, I'd want them over. But my pillow...

I'm doomed.

And not even the good kind!

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><p><strong>grumbles... stupid computer. it's not really the computer's fault, but im gonna blame it anyway...<strong>

**ah shit! it turned off on me. jk.**

**reread this chapter if you read original!**

**im really stupid...  
><strong>


	7. Chapter 7

**(hyperventilating) I can't... Believe... How many... (collapses)**

**Danny: great, you guys made her pass out.**

**Me: I'm okay! Okay! Nine reviews! Oh my gosh... For that... ENJOY!**

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><p>"Are you sure, Mom? I mean, I still haven't done my chores," I attempted to wiggle my way out of the sleep over. Sam and Tucker were sure excited about it, nights at my house are always... <em>interesting<em>. But still, what if they saw my pillow?

Under it, that is.

"Danny," my mother reasoned, "I already said 'yes'. What more do you need? A formal invitation?" She laughed and walked into the kitchen, me following, hot on her trail. Her hood was down, a rare event, so I could see her stunning violet eyes. Though those were rare, purple irises, two women had them in my life. I liked them both. A lot, in one's case.

"Are you sure?" I repeated, trying to talk her out of it. She would hear no argument, she kissed me on the forehead and passed me by.

"Have fun tonight!" she called behind to me. She added, "Your father and I will be hunting for Phantom tonight, don't wait up!" I saw her and Dad leave, him waving at me. I smiled, slightly, and waved back weakly. "Bye," I said to no one.

"Danny! When are Sam and Tucker coming?" Jazz yelled from atop the stairs.

"Right about—"

_Ding dong._

"Now," I finished.

"Danny! Get the door!"

"Thanks, Jazz, where would I be without your helpful advice?" I mumbled, walking to front door, as Jazz ordered.

Tucker and Sam were there, prompting me to believe they came together, each holding an identical blue sleeping bag. On their backs, their book bags, Sam's a purple spider and Tucker's a ordinary orchid one. I smiled at them, not a full big one, just a small sideways smile.

"Hey, guys. Wanna come in, or are you comfortable on the porch?" I asked, trying to sound normal. Apparently it worked, Tucker laughed as he came in. Sam rewarded my effort with a smile.

"What's the plans, dude?" Tuck asked, flopping onto my couch. I laughed, thinking of a good joke.

"Well, first," I started, "we'll get you off my couch." Ouch, bad one. Stinging!

"We'll see about that one." I laughed and walked to the stairs.

"I'm going up to my room, you guys can enjoy loneliness down here," I said, but I stood and waited for Sam and Tuck to join, and surpass, me on the steps. Like a good friend. Point one for Fenton!

"Seriously, what are we doing? I got the new Dead Teachers on DVD." Tucker pulled it out to saw and I smiled.

"Sounds like a plan," I said, taking it to see the cover. "What did you wanna do, Sam?"

Sam looked at me in acknowledgement and then back to her feet. "I want to watch that movie, I was sick when it was playing in the theaters."

"Mmkay," I said, taking her sleeping bag from her. She followed me to my room and Tucker, who had already made to my room, called to us.

"Hey, Danny!" he yelled, waking the devil. "Can I have the bed?"

My eyes went wide as I threw the sleeping bag to Sam, who caught it with an "oof" and a glare to me, and I ran to my room. I skidded to a stop at my door and put both of my hands on it. "No!" I yelled.

Tucker's wide surprised eyes addressed me. "_Oookaay_," he drawled.

"What's with you, Danny?" Sam asked, looking pretty mad, as she came in.

"Nothing!" I said a little too quickly, glancing nervously at my pillow. Bad. Bad, Danny.

I felt like screaming.

Having a break down.

I was so nuts.

I smiled at Sam and Tuck. "Are we gonna watch that movie or keep staring at me?"

* * *

><p>The movie was amazing. Sure, Tuck and I already saw it, but it was even awesomer on DVD! Is awesomer even a word? Who cares! Sam loved it, that's the most important part. She loved it when the Dead Teacher ate the jock, previously, she threw popcorn at the TV when he came up, and booed when it ate the "socially awkward" kid. Probably because that was us.<p>

We were laughing at Sam's actions and "funnies" in the movie, though there were few considering it was a horror movie. I had nearly forgotten my second secret.

Nearly.

I froze and glanced at my pillow.

"What's the matter Danny?" Sam asked, I spun to face her.

"Nothing." I gave a nervous laugh. "Why?"

"Well, you've just been acting strange, that's all." I nodded to her and looked at Tuck.

"What else did you wanna do?" I asked shakily.

"Not much really," he yawned. He looked at his PDA and yawned again. "It's one o'clock, I'm beat! Got any extra pillows?" He eyed mine. I gulped and became rigid.

"Yeah..." I finally got out, "in the hall... Down stairs." Tucker blinked twice, as if waiting for me to offer to get them.

I was not moving from that spot!

"I'll go and get them," Tuck said, getting to his feet.

I sighed in relief and turned to find a glaring Sam. "What?" I asked defensively.

"What!" she practically screamed. "What's wrong with you is more like it."

"What do you mean?" I asked, innocently.

Sam was frothing. "What do I _mean_?" she hissed.

"Dah!" I said, backing away a little. I crossed my hands in front of me.

"You've been acting weird and when Jazz invited us over, you acted like we were poison! Now you're being a complete jerk!"

We both turned to the door where Tucker was standing, mouth open, gaping at Sam's accusations.

"Uh... Got the pillows," he said shakily with a nervous laugh, holding them up.

"Thanks, Tucker." Sam pushed herself up from her crossed legged position on the floor and met him.

"Let's got some sleep, I was thinking we could go to the arcade tomorrow," Tucker attempted.

But we were all silent, not arguing, not agreeing.

* * *

><p>I watched Sam breathe in and out for a while, becoming my version of an insomniac. Just Sam's breathing as a lullaby...<p>

I shook my head roughly, as to not sleep. Any other night I'd find difficulty in participating in this action, but now... I just couldn't believe it.

I looked over to my pillow, soft, invitingly so. Yet my pillow held a secret, one I was trying to hide from Sam and Tucker. I looked to Tucker.

He had put his hat next to his pillow, must've been a good pillow, it probably didn't help him hide secrets from his friends, and rested his glasses there as well.

I just couldn't believe how I acted just moments ago, before either of them found sleep. I was a complete jerk! Jerks are in no way exceptionable in my book.

They deserved punishment.

* * *

><p><strong>reread chapter six for those of you who read original... edited... revised... i hate computers...<strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**My foot is numb. Haha.**

* * *

><p>Drearily, I opened my eyes to the cold, stark world.<p>

What a cruel world it was.

I don't know why, but after last night's... _activiti_es I fell asleep. I ran and ran in my dreams, away from Sam, Tucker, Jazz, even a giant knife.

Similar to the one beneath my pillow.

I was breathing hard as I possibly could and then I wasn't breathing at all. It kinda scared me.

A lot.

I, for a few literally breathless moments, was dead.

I noted that Sam and Tucker were still sleeping, and the sky was a gray sheet. I glanced at my clock, alarmed to find it to be only six in the morning.

I was going back to sleep.

* * *

><p>When I woke again, the room was still shadowed, Sam and Tucker though... They were gone.<p>

"Maybe they're in the kitchen," I said to myself. I lifted myself out of my warm, nice bed and got ready.

My normally tussled hair was even more so, I realized looking in my bathroom mirror. I sighed as I ran my fingers through it, as to substitute combing it. All that accomplished was messing it up even more, making about eleven toughs of hair opposed to my usual three. That was a lost cause.

I walked back into my room, upset by my disheveled hair, and searched for a shirt and a pair of pants that didn't smell like I'm too lazy to clean them. What can I say? I'm a procrastinator. Sue me.

I glanced back at my wrist. The old gauze was redden by my very own blood and was showing it's age. I was going to have to change it. Jazz wasn't the only one who had foreseen occasions such as this. Nope. I reached beneath my own bed and pulled out my medical kit.

I reached into it after lifting the seemingly light but heavy lid. I pulled out the same spray that Jazz used on me all those eternities ago. I sprayed it, and, like last time, I didn't wince. I wrapped it in new gauze and headed out of my door and down the stairs.

Approaching the kitchen, a smell mixture of pancakes, eggs and bacon drifted through the air. The delicious aroma made me stop and do a double take. It was the best thing I had smelled in a while, opposed to cake on blood and ectoplasm...

Things I will not speak of.

I walked into the kitchen, finding Jazz, wearing a little pink apron, at the stove and Sam and Tuck at the table was a surprising and expected scene. Both at the same time.

"Danny! Glad to see you in the land of the living! Hungry?" Jazz asked, holding up and tipping the pan toward me.

"Not really," I grumbled. Out loud, I said, "Sure, what're you making?" I peered at the pan, a thick white but browning substance that made other people's mouth water. But, for some reason, not mine. I felt like throwing up. A little.

"I'm making pancakes, want some?" No. Not really.

"Um..." I glanced at my friends. Sam, taking it as an "is it okay?", gave me a thumbs up, while Tucker didn't notice me for he was shoving the food down his throat, syrup dribbling off his chin and onto the table messily.

"Sure...?" I asked as Jazz turned and grabbed a plate with four whopping pancakes.

"Great! I hope you like them!" She handed me the plate, and I tried not to drop them on the one foot trip to the table.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty," Sam said, her usual morning greeting for me.

"Are you gonna eat all of those?" Tuck asked. Which was weird because he never asks for my food.

I think my eyebrow lift notified him of my confusion.

"Sorry," he said after swallowing, "it's just, your sister is an amazing cook!"

I laugh. "Yeah, how else do you think I'm still alive? Not from eating my mom's cooking." I looked around. "Hey, where are they anyway?" I ask, looking at Jazz.

My answer came in the form of two HAZMATed scientist that hated part of me walking into the kitchen, talking.

"I don't know, Jack," Mom said causally, smiling to me. "I don't think he'll be there."

"He's always there. It's like he stalks the place!" Dad said, picking up my plate of pancakes. Not like I was going to eat them.

Sam cleared her throat, "Ahem. Who are you talking about?"

Mom turned to look at her. "Phantom, of course. Jack has an idea as to how to catch him."

"Oh..." I said.

Sam looked to me. She sighed and gave me a look that said sorry... For my life. For everything that has happened to me.

If she knew everything, that'd be a look of disgust.

To break the awkward silence that we accidentally propelled ourselves into, Sam said, "I need to go brush my hair." I nodded to her and watched her walk up the stairs.

"So, Danny-boy!" my Dad chimed. Oh boy...

* * *

><p>Sam glanced around Danny's room. Where did she put that hair brush? She walked over to the most obvious place for it: her bookbag.<p>

"Not there," she muttered after spilling its content on her floor. She had searched it, pushing over her purple lipstick and black nail polish, which she doesn't usually wear, under Danny's bed. She crawled to it and searched. Nothing.

"Dang it!" she yelled, having lost her brush, lipstick, nail polish, and soon her mind.

"Maybe it's under my pillow," she muttered, scooting on her knees. She pushed her hand underneath it, but discovered nothing more than the usual dust bunnies.

"Where is it!" she growled.

"Who knows, with Danny acting so weird, maybe _he_ took it." Sam straightened and her eyes widened. "No, he couldn't have. But something is up." Sam held a finger to her lip. "But what?"

Sam glanced at Danny's poorly made bed. She eyed the pillow.

* * *

><p>"I don't know, Mom, not much?" I said after my mom asked me how much I saw Phantom around school. By the questions they were asking, I could tell this wasn't going to be good, for Phantom or Fenton. Just my luck.<p>

"Well, did you see him this week?" she questioned back. _Yes, in the mirror._ I sighed, truly tired of the question and answer game. Really, though, it was more like half of an answer.

"No, I haven't seen him." I got a bright idea. "How 'bout you, Tuck?"

My parents' attention went to the techno geek in question, his mouth stuffed of pancakes, some syrup trailing to the table. He gave a look that pleaded not to do this, but it was too late. My parents latched onto the bait.

"Well, Tucker?" my mom inquired. "Have you?"

"Uhh..." I was pretty sure that was suppose to be an "umm" but his mouth was too full to make the "mm" sound. My face adopted a delighted smile as I placed my head on my closed fist, leaving the other bent, resting on the table.

Tucker's cheeks for bulging, and his hands were clasped around his fork and knife in the classic dinning pose. He swallowed hard and glared at me. I smiled wider.

My mom was standing, leaning over the table toward Tucker. My dad was sitting in his chair, eating the last of my pancakes. He was also staring intently at my best friend who I placed on the spot light.

"Uhh..." he said again, this time with a clear mouth. "No, I don't believe I have. But... Maybe Jazz has?" he said, glancing toward her.

Oh, so we're playing this game. He knew he couldn't put it back on me, I'd surely retaliate, so he put it on my sister. Truly smart, because he knew I wouldn't do anything to her. Well, not something drastic. Too drastic, that is.

Jazz glared her daggers, obviously not wanting to play, as she said, "I haven't seen Danny Phantom since last week."

Mom visibly winced when Jazz said "Danny". She composed herself enough to smile brightly and say, "Well... Danny? Have you seen him?"

I tried hard to ignore Tucker's snickering and mumblings about karma as I thought of my answer. "I said 'no'. None of us have."

"Why don't we ask your other friend?" Dad mused aloud around his pancakes.

"Sam?" Jazz asked. _Of course Sam. You said yourself I don't have any other friends, is that the hope talking?_

Then a thought hit me. Sam has been up there for a while...

Oh, no!

* * *

><p>Sam gracefully walked to the bed, careful not to disturb anything on Danny's floor. She made it more or less intact and cocked a head to the side, looking the bed over. <em>Well, nothing looks out of place...<em> The bed was unmade, but that was common for Danny. Last night, though, it seemed he just couldn't part from his pillow, the boy was so weird.

The pillow? Maybe? No. Not the pillow...

Sam walked over to the head and lifted the pillow.

All she could do was gasp.

* * *

><p>I gulped. I had to get back to my room, which, just my luck, meant I had to get rid of my parents. Luckily, they gave me the piece needed for that.<p>

"I'll go ask her," I said, shooting from the table. I ran up the stairs faster than I had ever run from Dash, that's how desperate I was.

"Sam!" I shouted, dropping my mouth at what I saw once I made it to the door, skidding like last night.

* * *

><p>"Sam!" Danny shouted. He skidded to a stop at the door like he did when Tucker asked for the bed. His mouth gaped open when he caught site of what Sam's hand contained. A pretty, small knife. Painted green and red.<p>

"Hi, Danny... What's this?" she asked, holding up the knife.

_I didn't think anyone would find it! What am I gonna do? I don't have a story. I need to make one. I should've made one!_

"Uh... Well... You see..." Light bulb! "Ya know when my parents are around me, Fenton, and there's a ghost?"

Sam nodded mutely.

"Well, that's what it's for."

Sam glanced at the knife, noting every detail possible in that small glance. "Why is there _blood_ on it?"

"Uhh..." Oh how he loved light bulbs. "I'm not the best knife fighter. Nicked myself a few times."

"But... there's so _much_."

_Quit prying, Sam!_ "Okay, a lot."

"Where?"

"Not important."

"This _is _important. There is so much."

Danny covered his wrist, Sam made note of this. "Get out of my room," he nearly growled.

"Danny..."

"Please," he said with closed eyes, "just leave."

Sam started toward the door.

"_Leave_ the _knife_."

Sam dropped it to the floor. Her hurt gaze found Danny as she left.

* * *

><p>I sat on my bed, breathing heavily through my mouth, in out, trying to control my anger at Sam. How could she...? Why would she? Why didn't I hide it better! Why was I so stupid! I placed my head in my hands. Why was I so stupid?<p>

I breathed in and out for a while, trying to calm my mind to where my body appeared. I was tired of hiding everything. My secrets, true burdens. My first one kept from everyone but Sam, Tucker, and Jazz. And my second... kept from everyone.

But me.

I don't want this secret. I don't want to hide.

So I won't.

I'll quit.

* * *

><p><strong>sorry, someone asked for more feeling... nd I didnt deliver<strong>

**when you imagine dannys hair, think of it like it was in the Fenton Menace.  
><strong>


	9. Chapter 9

**I. Am. So. SORRY! I haven't updated in forever and everyone's gonna hate me! But, this is partly your fault cause you guys barely review anymore. REVIEW!**

**Cutting Edge, Chapter Nine**

**Needs more REVIEWS!**

* * *

><p>I sighed and stood. Stalking over to my plain blue dresser, I opened the top drawer. I dropped the knife and listened to the hollow <em>plunk<em> it made as it hit. Not only did I not clean my clothes very often, I didn't fold them either.

I headed for the door, knowing full well what lied behind it. My family, happily speaking of destroying me, Sam and her hurt gazes.

I could do this...

I mean, they just either hated part of me, or was really hurt by the other...

I couldn't do this...

I couldn't face hatred.

I couldn't do this. Face these people I call loved ones.

But I had to.

* * *

><p>I took my sweet time, stomping down the steps, counting each second, each pound. I counted each breath, in and out, that I took, knowing if my parents knew all of me, one should be my last.<p>

I, unfortunately, made it all the way down. I was in full view of the kitchen. I could see all my family and friends.

And they could see me.

I took a deep breath, another and another, before continuing my "journey".

"Hi, Danny!" my mom chimed blissfully. My heart, knowing this is how her voice _should_ sound to me, responded happily. My mind was more intelligent. It knew another way this voice could sound. I smiled halfheartedly.

I felt them. I ignored them.

I ignored them for Jazz's sweet smile. She was still at the stove, cooking to my father's request. Ah, Jazz. Always caring for others.

I continued to ignore them.

I ignored them for Tucker's syrup coated face. He smiled at me, pancake and maple covered teeth baring.

I tried to ignore them.

But I couldn't. I felt them. They bore into me, analyzing me and my movements. My fake smiles and greetings.

They tried to find the truth. The truth I buried deep. I used bricks of all kinds to barricade them in.

My favored brand being lies and deception.

Sam's eyes cut into me, deeper than any knife.

Like the one beneath my pillow.

The one that _was_ beneath my pillow.

Now in my drawer.

I turned to her.

The corners of Them creased, sad and hurt. I felt like reaching out to her, brushing away her hair. Like of the hair of her make-shift widow's peak bangs.

I felt like pushing that hair out of Them. I felt like letting Them see me. The real me, no matter how disgusting. I felt like not only opening Them, but the rest of the world's. So they could see how beautiful she was. I felt like moving the hair out of Sam's eyes, so the world could see them.

But the world would see the hurt I put there.

The wounds I caused in only a couple of seconds.

Or...

Was it more?

More than that? Have I been hurting her for a while? Ignoring the wounds, the bleeding wounds that were obviously crying out?

How...

How long had I been doing that?

They continued to stare at me, reminding me that I had been staring back. All was silent.

Except...

It wasn't.

I was just not listening. I was clueless.

My mom and dad chatted loudly about, you guessed it, destroying me. Tucker and Jazz talked about the pancakes...

And Sam and I stared at each other.

So clueless.

"Sam..." Barely a whisper came out.

She stood and stalked out of the room and up the stairs, my eyes following her the whole time.

* * *

><p>"Dude," Tucker said as we headed up the steps to the second floor, "what'd you do to make her so mad?" It was a while after lunch, Tucker, eating four plates of pancakes for breakfast and three turkey sandwiches later, was wanting to play off his stomachache and Sam hadn't come back down. I was actually worried for her.<p>

We made it to my room, which had the door shut. I felt a little anger swell, why could she shut herself in _my_ room, but pushed it down. I didn't have the right. She did. I hurt her. I hurt her badly and she had the right to be angry. To shut herself away.

I didn't.

I knocked. I knocked because that was what I was supposed to do. She had the right, not me. She had the right to have me knock before I entered my room that she shut herself away in.

I didn't.

Sam opened the door with a sniffle, holding onto the sides for balance. When her eyes locked onto me, she glared and slammed it shut once again.

I narrowed my eyes. "Nice to know I can't even come into my own room!" I called, knowing it would make it through the door.

Bad choice, Fenton.

The door swung open once again, but this time instead of Sam, a purple spider backpack came sailing out and hit me square in the chest. It brought me with cruelty to the wall.

Tucker, in fighting stance, first glanced at me and then the door. "You really made her mad."

"Thanks, Captain Duh," I muttered sarcastically.

* * *

><p>"Sam?" Tuck and I called through the door an hour later. When was she going to come out? Next year!<p>

* * *

><p>Sam sniffled again. She didn't know why, she just did. It's not like she had been crying. She didn't have allergies...<p>

Sam suddenly sneezed. She shook her head to clear away the confusion brought on by the abrupt action.

Why was she sneezing?

She sneezed again.

"What the heck?"

Sneeze.

Sneeze.

Sneeze.

"What the-"

Sneeze.

It cut off her sentence, angering her further. She narrowed her eyes.

Then they became wide with realization.

"Duh," she laughed, smacking her forehead. While she was looking for her brush the second time, she must have breathed in too much dust.

She sneezed again, bringing more laughter opposed to anger.

She got back on track with the thought of her hair.

_Now where did I put that brush?_ Her eyes locked with the dresser. _In the drawer?_ She shrugged. She sometimes put things there. Danny never did.

She neared the dresser, noting the chipping paint on the sides of each drawer.

_The first drawer_, the thought came naturally.

* * *

><p>"Sam," I called halfheartedly, banging my clenched fist in the same manor. What could she be doing in there anyway? I didn't hear the T.V. on, and the only noise detected was the sound of a drawer opening.<p>

_The top drawer._

The only noise I heard was the top drawer opening.

And a gasp.

* * *

><p>Sam gasped. The knife... He had moved it.<p>

He had picked it up and moved it.

_Of course he did, stupid! Why would he leave it out?_

Sam shook her head.

Sam's head turned to the door, which someone was trying to open with great force, creating loud noises. She used these noises to close the drawer and open the next.

* * *

><p>I practically smacked my head when I remembered that I had ghost powers.<p>

Seriously, who forgets that?

Apparently, me.

* * *

><p>Danny phased through into the room as Sam opened the second drawer, trying to appear as if it was the one open.<p>

Sam looked up. "Oh, hi, Danny, what're you doing in here?"

He laughed sardonically. "Yes, what am _I _doing in _my_ room. Good question, Sam. Good question."

Sam continued to stare at him, sizing up his demeanor that was covered in sarcasm. She couldn't believe this.

"I-I... I guess I'm going then..." She barely uttered the words before Danny was nodding with crossed arms.

"Yes, you are." He glanced around the room and widened his eyes. "Oh... yeah... You were looking for your hair brush... I'm sorry... It's in the bathroom, by the way." He pointed to said room, taking a step toward it.

Sam attempted to blink away the confusion. _Wasn't he really mad a minute ago?_ was her only thought as she walked to the door he pointed to.

_Ignore it, Manson, at least he isn't mad anymore._

* * *

><p><em>He was dematerializing before our eyes. He sat and clutched the knife tightly, like a life-line. What broke our hearts the most: This was happening for a while... and none of us saw it.<em>

* * *

><p>Tucker and I walked to school the next Monday alone.<p>

With no Sam.

I didn't know why Sam wasn't at school, why she wasn't speaking to me. She stopped after Saturday, but Tuck never noticed.

Talk about clueless.

Well, I suppose I was really the clueless one.

I didn't know why she was mad.

I knew why she was upset.

... But mad?

Well, I could find out after school.

* * *

><p>Sam sat in her darkened room, letting the shadows overcome her. What was going on with Danny?<p>

What was wrong with him?

What could she do?

What _should_ she do?

These questions circled her head, clouding everything, including her sight.

She felt like throwing up.

So... When she told her mother she was sick... Maybe she wasn't lying.

* * *

><p>I sighed, staring up at the large building, trying to see through the dust tainted windows, trying to find Sam.<p>

I shook my head and headed for the steps. I would just ask the Mansons to see Sam. Not that hard. Until I knocked and the door opened.

Mrs. Manson looked unimpressed, almost disappointed. "Oh, your Sammy's friend. Sorry, she can't play today."

I raised and eyebrow on the word "play". What teen "_plays_". Besides video games, that is.

"I just wanna know why she wasn't at school today..." I spat out at the closing door.

"She's sick!" came the chopped response.

"I got her homework!"

The door opened enough to snatch it from my hands.

"You're welcome!" I called, cupping one hand at my mouth, as the door slammed one last time.

* * *

><p>"I-I need to talk to someone... About what I saw..."<p>

Sam breathed heavily as she clutched her phone to her chest. Reluntently, she pulled it away and open it to her contacts list.

The first on the list. The most important. The one that needed her as much as she needed him. Why would she call the person she wanted to help?

She scrolled down to the second contact. Speed Dial Three. The first was Speed Dial Two, of course. This one was her complete opposite. ... But this one was also the first one's best friend... He'd tell Danny if she talked to him.

Sam went to the third one. A smile played her trembling lips.

She found the right contact.

Shakily, she pressed the dial button. The dial tone, that only lasted three rings, went on for an enternity before she recieved an answer.

"_Hello?_" the female's all-knowing voice answered.

"Jazz? Hey, it's Sam... I need to talk to you about Danny..."

"_I'll be right over._"

* * *

><p>I paced my room, wandering how I was going to get past Sam's mom and to her. I needed to apologize for the way I acted Saturday. I was such a jerk. I couldn't believe what a jerk I was...<p>

I hoped I didn't hurt her feelings...

Because hurting Sam's feelings was something no man had ever accomplished before...

And I didn't want to be the first.

* * *

><p>Jazz slipped into Sam's room looking out of breath.<p>

Sam shut the door once she was inside and braced against it, like she was trying to keep something out.

Which she was.

"What'd they say?" Sam asked.

Jazz, who understood imediantly who "they" were, answered, "At first they thought I was a goth... Because of my shirt."

Sam leveled her glare on the far wall.

"Then they noticed my pants and made a comment about me knowing that jeans can come in blue."

Sam growled and then caught herself. Though, that might've due to Jazz changing the subject.

"What'd you wanna talk about?" Her voice was grave. She knew something was wrong.

"Danny... It's about something I found in his room..."

* * *

><p>I finally ceased my pacing and landed face-first on my bed. I groaned into my pillow. The radio on my alarm clock was slightly humming. I reached over and turned the knob, raising the volume.<p>

Slightly creepy music then a loud guitar solo coated me and my room. I listened.

_I tried._

_To kill the pain..._

_But only brought more..._

_I lay dying._

_And I am pouring..._

_Crimson regret..._

_and Be-trayal..._

_I'm dying, _

_Praying..._

_Bleeding._

_And screaming!_

_Am I too lost..._

_To be saved?_

_Am..._

_I..._

_Too lo-st...!_

_My God!_

_My tourniquet!_

_Re-turn._

_To._

_Me._

_Salva-tion!_

_My God! _

_My tourniquet!_

_Re-turn._

_To._

_Me._

_Salva-ati-on_

_Do you._

_Remember me?_

_Lost..._

_For..._

_So long?_

_Will. _

_You._

_Be on. _

_The other side?_

_Or._

_Will._

_You._

_Forget me?_

_I'm dying, _

_Praying..._

_Bleeding _

_And screaming!_

_Am I too lost._

_To be saved?_

_Am..._

_I..._

_Too lo-st?_

_My God!_

_My tourniquet!_

_Re-turn _

_To._

_Me._

_Sal-vation!_

_My God._

_My tourniquet,_

_Re-turn!_

_To._

_Me._

_Salva-ati-on!_

Now all there was an instrumental solo, with a couple of back-up singers singing "return to me salvation" over and over again.

"I want to die!" the radio screamed.

_My God!_

_My tourniquet!_

_Re-turn _

_To._

_Me._

_Sal-vation._

_My God!_

_My tourniquet!_

_Re-turn. _

_To._

_Me._

_Salva-ati-on._

_My wounds!_

_Cry for the grave!_

_My soul cries..._

_For deliverance..._

_Will I be._

_Denied?_

_Christ!_

_Tourniquet!_

_My suicide..._

The host's voice broke through the outro, making it difficult to hear. "_That was Morbid Anti-Socail Youth with Tourniquet. Stay turned for Paradise by Humpty-Dumpty and Ember McLain's Remember._"

I sighed, letting the song's lyrics overcome my current problems. Listening. Understanding. Letting it overcome my current problems...

Except...

My eyes flung open.

It was about my current problem.

No matter how much I deny it...

That knife was still my problem.

* * *

><p>"What?" Jazz screamed.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>And... End. Thank you! Longest yet! I'm excited! That song is really by Evanescence, but I wanted to keep it in the DP universe. So. I blamed Morbid Anti-Socail Youth, Sam's favorite band.<strong>

**Let's try something.**

**I'll give you a "Reviewer Challenge" each update.**

**This update's: Get 16 reviews.**

**I know it sounds crazy, but I know there is at least sixteen people reading this.**

**I won't update until this goal is reached.**

**(What would suck for both of us is if it wasn't reached and I caved in after two months... or three.)**

**Happy Really Late Dannyversary!**


	10. Chapter 10

**16 is 16, people. Not 11.**

* * *

><p>"What?" Jazz screamed, jumping off Sam's bed. "What do you mean by that?"<p>

Sam's eyes were wide as she tried to calm the older teen. "Calm down, Jazz. I said _I think_ he's doing that... I didn't say I had any proof..."

Jazz's eyes were set in determination. "Then let's get some..."

* * *

><p>I sighed. This was terrible. There was no escape. That knife cut into me even when I hid it in an empty drawer...<p>

Absolutely no escape for the sinful...

I mean. I didn't deserve this life. I took everything in my nearly perfect life... for granted. I sat selfishly in my completely furnished room. A computer. A bed. A bunch of clothes. I was selfish. I was spoiled and selfish. There were people out there with real problems and here I was moping for myself. My selfish, selfish self.

I flopped back onto the bed after going to look at the drawer somberly. I didn't feel like moving, barely felt like breathing. I just lay there. On my bed. Pitying an undeserving creature.

Me.

* * *

><p>"What are you talking about, Jazz? How are we going to get proof that's what Danny's doing?" Sam yelled as she followed Jazz down the street.<p>

"Easy... We watch him... I don't really want to believe you," she said, turning to Sam, "but I trust you. So... I'm going to see if you're right." She held her thumb to her teeth. "Besides, if you are right then... then we need to help him, right? It'd be wrong to find out and just ignore it."

"Jazz..." Sam said softly. She didn't want Jazz to be upset and worked up over this. Jazz was always worrying for her little brother. There was only one way Sam could take a bit of that away from her, she thought as Jazz turned her attention back to her. Sam sighed. "I'll help you... find your proof. I—"

She was cut off but Jazz's unexpected hug and chorus of gratitude. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you so much, Sam! Thank you, thank you!"

Sam cringed in her grasp. "Human contact... crushing goth... indifference..."

Jazz, who did not hear Sam's mutterings, slowly released her. She smiled thankfully and said one last time, "Thanks so much, Sam, you don't know how much this means to me."

"I think me and my bruised arms got the message..." she muttered to her self, looking over them for damage.

Jazz had heard that one and said, "Sorry, Sam. Guess I don't know my own strength?"

"Yeah, I heard that before. Ya know, when your super-powered brother _squeezed_ me to death." Sam smiled to let Jazz know she was kidding.

Sam's comment just reminded Jazz what she needed to do. "Come on, let's get to my house."

The girls entered the house as quietly as humanly possible. Danny, Sam thought as she heard the door's dead blot click, could be even quieter, considering he could walk through the door.

They trotted up the steps, their feet making it seem as if someone was continually dropping boulders on the ground, to Sam's ears. She sighed in relief after trekking up what felt like a hundred miles of stairs. She looked to Jazz to see if she was as nervous. "Jazz?" she breathed in a whisper.

Jazz responded in the same manor, "Yeah?"

"Is Danny home?"

Jazz looked at his door. Music was blasting through it and all the tiny cracks the sound could have found. Jazz sighed. "Yes..."

They slipped into Jazz's overly pink bedroom, according to Sam, that is. She walked over to a teetering pile of books on her desk and grabbed the top book. She glanced over the cover to check and make sure it was the right one. She flipped it over to show Sam the title.

Sam read it quickly. "Why'd you get _this_?" she asked in a whisper.

"I didn't plan on it... Danny picked it up for me. Then he tried to get it back. That should've been my first clue." She sighed sadly and sat on her bed, placing the book on her lap.

_Dealing with Self Endangerment, You and Your Self Harming Problems: Cutting _stared up at her furiously.

"He couldn't have picked up a better one," Sam muttered, sitting next to her.

Jazz nodded while saying, "You got that right."

Jazz let it slide off her lap and to the ground. "I don't know what to do..." she murmured. "I just don't..." She felt the emotions swirl, colliding with each, mixing in a way that she couldn't tell if she was angry, at herself or at Danny, or sad, for Danny, or even guilty that she didn't see this. She felt like curling in a ball. Her eyes widened. She did see this... and she ignored it.

That day... Danny was overly happy... Like he was _trying_ to be overly happy. Like he was hiding that he wasn't. She remembered when she came up to his room to tell him it was dinner time. He was all gloomy... a real downer all night. Like the effort to be happy was too much to ask. Her mind flashed to the scene Sam described for her. He was completely angry one second, Sam had said, then guilty and compassionate the next. Her brother was...

No. Danny is _not_ bipolar. But... Perhaps Sam is right...

"Do you really think Danny's... c-_cutting_ himself?"

"I have no clue. I want to say no. No. Not in a million years... but... The proof..."

"I never want to be a scientist," Jazz muttered.

"Ditto..."

* * *

><p>In reality, I wouldn't just sit in one spot, pity myself and not notice people in my house.<p>

But... When I was concerned, when did reality ever care to be kind to me?

So, no, I did not hear Sam and Jazz come up and go to Jazz's room. If I had, I wouldn't be in the mess I am now. Not even close.

Though, asking Jazz, I'm not in a mess. I'm_ getting help_.

What a load.

But... She's right. I'm not in a mess.

I _am_ the mess.

* * *

><p>I sighed and flipped over, still not feeling like moving, but burying my face in my stupidly soft pillow.<p>

I didn't even deserve the pillow.

I noticed it made my breathing harder, the pillow I didn't deserve, so I continued to smother my face. I kept pushing it in farther, farther, until I couldn't breathe at at anymore. I lay like that for a couple of minutes, the pressure on my oxygen deprived lungs increasing with each second and attempted breath, the ectoplasm in my system keeping me from passing out, keeping me aware to indure my self inflicted torture. That's when human instinct kicked in, pulling me away, forcing me to breathe real air, not through a pillow.

I curled into a pathetic ball. I felt hot, liquified shame roll across my face, wishing it would stop. All the tears were was evidence that I was a failure.

The shame wasn't the only thing I wanted to cease.

It was what I just tried to end.

* * *

><p>"Here's the plan," Sam said to Jazz, who was sitting on her bed fumbling with the book, the evil tattle tale book, "we watch Danny to get your proof, then we confront him." She slammed her fist down on her other hand on the word confront.<p>

"I don't know..." Jazz muttered. "What if he's more on unstable than we thought? What if something happens?"

"Jazz, no matter how far in he is, no matter how... _crazy_ he gets, he's still your brother and my friend, he'd never hurt us, no matter what." Sam said these words hoping to believe them herself. Just like that day after school. She told Jazz there was nothing wrong with Danny, and she made herself believe that. And look how wrong she turned out with that. She was wrong. She hoped with all her heart, with every piece of her, every molucle, that she was wrong. _Wrong_.

For her's and Jazz's sake, absolutely wrong.

* * *

><p>The next day was a pretty normal day. Lancer was no doubt boring enough to almost put me in a coma. Math <em>did<em> put me in one, as well as PE... And... Science was...

Who am I kidding? Science was a bust, a disaster.

Because of me.

* * *

><p>Sam had called the night before. She said she was so sorry for not calling sooner and how she acted Saturday. I told her the only one who needed to apoligizze was me for my behavior. She said it was her fault. I didn't push it, we were okay. That was all that mattered. We met outside of the school, making up in person.<p>

So, we were friends again, occasionally, though, I'd catch Sam just staring at me, not saying anything, just staring, like she was trying to solve a puzzle that had eluded mankind for centuries. All through the day, she'd just stare.

At English.

During History.

At PE. She got hit pretty hard in the head with a basketball, like I did later, because she was watching my group instead of paying attention to her own. I know it sounds weird, why weren't we in the same group? But, even if it's co-ed, they have _some_ separations.

At Lunch. That's when I confronted her.

Sam was staring again. This time, I stared back. This probably freaked out Tucker, but I didn't care. "What?" It came out a little nasty, but, hey, she was the one that couldn't stop staring at me.

Sam blinked a couple of times, her fork was poised in the air halfway from her salad, and said, "Huh?"

I put my chicken salad sandwich down on my plate. "Why do you keep staring at me?" I asked, cocking my head a bit to the right.

"Was it because of his sandwich?" Tucker joked, holding a his stomach as if to control laughter and soothe his ache and laughed.

Sam put her fork down, slammed her left fist on the table and turned slightly to glare at him, her lips pursed slighly as well. "No! Why would I watch someone eat a poor, defenseless animal! Tucker, you're so insensitive!" At the end, Sam stood above Tucker, Tucker lowered away from her.

"Look, Sam, here, I'll eat something else. Here, I'll eat my cookies," I said, picking one up to show her.

Sam sat back down, her lips still pressed against each other. "It's not about the sandwich."

I pulled my eyebrows together in confusion. "Then what is it about?"

She stood again, this leaning over me. I leaned back a bit, mouth gaping. "You know what—Never mind. You guys enjoy your lunch. See you in science." With that said, Sam picked up her bag, leaving her lunch, and exited the cafeteria.

"Does she expect us to throw away her trash?" Tucker asked, eying her unfinished salad.

I ignored his comment. "Should I go after her?"

"Nah, man, let her blow off steam. Something is probably going on and she's a little upset."

I looked doubtful. "If you say so..."

* * *

><p>After Tuck and I finished lunch, and I threw away Sam's trash if anyone is asking, we headed to science, which all three of us had together. Sam was propped against the wall outside the science room, looking at her feet. When we came by, she first lifted her eyes then started, jumping from the wall. "Danny!" she said. "I'm sorry for yelling at you." She gave me a quick hug then stepped away.<p>

"Hey, don't I get a hug? You hurt my feelings too, ya know," Tucker piped up.

Sam looked like she was about to tell him off, for a minute there, until her features softened and she smiled. "Of course," she said, leaning toward him as well, "sorry."

Tucker smiled as the bell rang. "Ya know what that is?" he asked us.

I shrugged. "The bell for science?"

"Nope," Tuck said happily, closing his eyes. He continued matter-of-factly, "The signal that there is any two hours left of the day."

We were smiling as we walked into the classroom.

* * *

><p>"Today, class," bagan Mr. Faluca, "to keep you interested in science for the rest of your time here at Casper High, you will be permitted to use the chemicals I provide for you."<p>

The class erupted in cheers and I bounced lightly on my feet in anticipation as well. This would be fun, Mr. Faluca never let us use the chemicals due to us being freshman. Only sophomore and up, he said. So, everyone was excited.

"I've paired you up with a Junior, and for those of you who aren't paired up with a Junior are paired with a student who took the Summer Chemistry Course. Now the materials we will be using are..." I turned to my left to look at Sam.

I whispered to her, "You took the Summer Chemistry Course?"

She glanced at me, then back to the broad. "Yes, my parents made me."

"Oh..." I glanced down at my hands fumbling with a small flask.

"But at least it's a good thing... We're partners..." she whispered, no longer paying attention to Mr. Faluca.

I smiled, then noticed Mr. Faluca released the class to do their assignments. I looked at Sam, she had the same look I had. We didn't hear a thing of what we were suppose to do. The look we shared was terror.

"Should we ask him?" I whispered.

"No," she whispered back, "it's Mr. Faluca. You know how he gets."

"Then what are we going to do?" I whisper-yelled.

"Hey," a Junior said from beside me, "are you guys having trouble?"

"Yeah, we, uh, kinda forgot a bit of what we were suppose to do..." I smiled nervously.

"Oh? Which part?" he asked.

I looked at the ground. "Um... All of it?"

He laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. "Which one of you took the summer course?"

I jerked my thumb behind me to Sam, my sight remained to the ground. He spoke with Sam, telling her to use a bunch of chemicals I had no idea what they were. All I caught was Potassium Chlorate... Whatever that was...

"That's all?" Sam asked, because it was a short list.

"Yep," the Junior said and Sam turned to collect the materials. "Oh," he said, turning to me. "I forgot. Put this in. Last," he added sternly.

I nodded then stopped myself. "Aren't we suppose to use what he provided?"

"He forgot to give it to you, here." He held out his closed fist. I put my hand out and he dropped whatever it was into it. I glanced at my hand to find about five Skittles. I raised my eyebrow and turned back to ask him why would I need those, but he was already talking to his partner, who was Paulina. She was batting her eyelashes and smiling, pretty much getting him to do what she wanted him to do.

I went back to my table where Sam had everything set up on the Bunsen burner. At the bottom of the flask was some white liquid.

"It's not doing anything..." Sam muttered.

I glanced back at the Skittles. That's why it wasn't doing anything. I held my closed fist above the flask. Sam's eyes widened.

"Danny, what are you doing?" she asked, eying my hand.

"That Junior said to put these in last... That's why it wasn't doing anything..."

"What is it?" she said. I opened my hand to show her the Skittles. She frowned. "I'm not sure you should put those in there..."

"Sam, if we don't, we don't pass for today... I don't feel like having an F and a detention in one day." I put my hand back over the flask.

Sam first looked like she wanted to argue, but then said, "Okay."

I dropped one in.

It all happened so fast, and that's the only way to describe it. First, something shot out of the flask and hit a pile of papers on Mr. Faluca's desk, setting them on fire. I dove and covered Sam, us both landing roughly on the ground. Sam told me later she was grateful for that. A couple of students, including Tucker and Valerie, ran for the fire alarm while Mr. Faluca searched frantically for the extinguisher. The alarm began to sound and Mr. Faluca, giving up on the fire extinguisher, called for all of us to evacuate. Mr. Faluca must have forgotten me and Sam because when we got up, everyone was gone and the room was filled with smoke and fire.

"Come on, Danny!" Sam called from the door.

"I can't! I set this fire! I gotta put it out!" I called back.

"Danny," Sam reasoned, "it's spread too much! We have to go!"

I swept the room and decided that it was a lost cause. I ran to the door, using my agility to get through the fire. I met Sam at the door and we ran into the hall, down the steps and out the door.

"There they are!" someone called. Apparently we were being looked for.

"Daniel! Samantha!" Mr. Faluca called. "Are you two alright?"

Sam glared at nothing when he called her "Samantha". I smiled at our teacher for caring. "Yeah... we just got lost."

Mr. Faluca creased his eyebrows but said nothing. A couple of paramedics came up to us saying they had to check us over, no matter how much Sam and I protested.

Jazz ran up to me after they were done. "Danny! Are you okay!" She engulfed me in hug that would kill a bear. When she finally released me, I laughed.

"Thanks for letting me have oxygen."

"You wouldn't be able to if you had stayed in there," Jazz countered. "What took you two so long?"

"I wanted to put the fire out, but Sam wouldn't let me."

Jazz put her hands on her hips. "Why would you want to put out the fire?"

I looked at my feet in shame. "I sorta... set it..."

"Danny, you what?"

"It was an accident!" I defended.

Jazz closed her eye and bowed her head, pinching the bridge of her nose in a Vlad-like fashion. I said nothing because I knew that would make her mad. She looked back up at me and said, "Okay. Okay, I believe you."

"You mean... you didn't at first? Is that what you were thinking about?"

"No. I was thinking about what would've happened if you didn't come out of there..." She smile and put a hand on my shoulder.

"Oh... Well. Thanks for caring." I smiled back to her.

She began to lead me to the RV. "Come on, Mom and Dad are waiting for us."

* * *

><p>Mom looked me over twice, at the school and at home.<p>

"Mom, I told you I'm fine."

"Okay..." She looked skeptical. "Go call your friends. See if they're okay."

I nodded and smiled, running to my room.

But, I didn't make it before the blue mist came out with my gasp.

"Danny? Is something wrong?" my mother asked.

"Nope," I said without turning around, "everthing's fine..."

"Okay." Short, sweet and simple. Wasn't she, just a minute ago, fretting over my well being? Nice.

I ran to the door and went ghost. If my mom saw anything, she didn't say anything.

I flew through the door and out into the crisp February air. I breathed it in, as if getting strength from it. I looked in all directions for the ghost that triggered my ghost sense, but saw no one.

"Looking for me?" a female voice said from behind me. I became rigid. Not her. Not now.

"Something wrong?" the voice taunted. Not her. Not now.

Not when I felt like this.

"Danny?" her voice continued to prod.

Not _now_.

I could feel her smile as well as her perfectly calculating glare.

I was a walking buffet for her.

She slithered up behind me and placed her black hands on my now tense shoulders.

"Danny, why so tense? Tell me all about it. You know us therapists. We love to talk it out."

Ectoenergy gathered in my hands. I wanted nothing but to be far away from her. Far, far away.

* * *

><p>Jazz carefully snicked up the stairs to Danny's room. Once there, she knocked on the door to see if her brother was there. Receiving no answer, Jazz slowly opened the door, wincing as it creaked.<p>

_Sam said top drawer__,_ she thought to herself as she swiveled her head around to look at the room. She ran over to the dresser and grabbed the knife. The sight of the blood and ectoplasm mixture broke her heart, but she shoved it into her pocket and ran down to the lab, where she intended to hide it.

* * *

><p>I turned intangible in Spectra's grasp. I wanted to be far, far, far away from her. Far, far away. I shot a couple of ectoblasts at her, each missing due to her moving and my bad aim caused by my shaking.<p>

"What's the matter, Danny? Look at you. You're shaking."

I hated her. So much.

That's when lunged at me. She turned us intangible and we sailed into my basement. The lab.

* * *

><p>Jazz had just found the perfect spot to hide the knife, a filing cabinet drawer, when Danny and a ghost, Spectra, flew in and landed on the floor. Spectra had Danny pinned there, but he was fighting, he was just very tense.<p>

Jazz remained silent, unaware that they didn't know she was there.

"Look at you," Spectra chided. Her hungry laugh sounded through the room. "You, you can't even beat me. You can't stop a fire. You can't even stop that no good _Technus_. Not only are you a freak, but a failure too!" She laughed as she closed her eyes and threw back her head.

That's when Danny untensed. Jazz gasped quietly and made her away behind the piled garbage, knowing now that they hadn't seen her. She was going for the Fenton Thermos when Spectra threw Danny to the exact spot where she was standing.

Danny lay there motionless for only a few seconds. He picked up something off the ground and stared at it.

"Go ahead. You can't get any lower," Spectra's voice chided. With her deed done, Spectra flew through the roof leaving Danny staring at empty air. He brought his knees to his chest.

He sat there and stared at nothing. Why? What would there be to stare at? What did he deserve to stare at? He breathed heavily and rocked back and forth, clutching the knife tight in his hand. He messed up again. Yet again, another failure. That's all that seem to come from him: failure.

Jazz's eyes became sad as they creased.

He was dematerializing before her eyes. He sat and clutched the knife tightly, like a life-line. What broke her heart the most: This was happening for a while... and she never saw it.

Something snapped when she saw him the knife to his left wrist and push it.

* * *

><p><strong>You should thank castyola, people who didn't review. Her review was one of my favorites.<strong>

**And a special thanks to DizzlyPuzzled and DeliciousKrabKakes for helping me with the science scene.**

**THIS IS THE LONGEST ONE YET!**

**Reviewer Challenge: Choose your favorite part of this chapter and say why. The usual stuff, too.**


	11. Jazz's Journal

**NEXT CHAPTER! *froths at mouth* *falls to the ground***

* * *

><p>I had no idea how Jazz felt during those two weeks before I... was discovered until I walked into the house and she handed this to me. It's been over three months... Three months with no Sam or Tucker. Three months without my family. Three months of hell. I practically hated it all. Then Jazz hands me a book, a journal. And I understand how this impacted her...<p>

* * *

><p><em>I walked up the stairs to check in on Danny, but he wasn't there. I was really upset by this, but I decided he was ghost fighting. So, I pushed it off. I walked back down and watched t.v.<em>

_After watching the most boring infomercial yet, something about bra's, Danny, yes bras, you walked in the front door. _

_I walked out to the foyer to see if was really you and not Dad or Mom, and it was. You. Holding your bleeding wrist._

_You know... The same wrist you kept hurting after that..._

_"Danny?" I called to you. "Is that you?"_

_I walked out into the hall after getting no reply. I saw you, holding your wrist. Your hand was covered in... Oh, God, Danny, it was covered in a large amount of blood. Do you even remember that? "Danny!" I cried. "Your wrist! Is it hurt?"_

_You nodded, remaining silent. That scared me, Danny. "What happened?" I demanded, taking you by your arm, careful to avoid the blood..._

_"Uh... Technus..." you murmured. I walked you up the stairs and to my room. You glanced around sadly and then your face took a guilty appearance. "Sorry about the stuffed animals," you told the pile of headless bears and lions in the corner._

_I blinked. What else was I suppose to do? That wasn't anywhere near my mind, I was only thinking about your wrist. I frowned slightly, though, 'cause I still liked them. I stammered, "It's okay, I mean... It's fine," as I crouched and reached underneath my bed for my First-Aid kit._

_You held out your wrist and I set to work. I had always hated that you didn't seem to notice when I sprayed you with the anti-bacterial stuff, I don't know why. Probably 'cause you just stand there and take it, like you've been through worse... I wrapped it up patted your hand to let you know I was finished. _

_"Jazz?" you asked._

_"Hmm?" I replied, placing the kit back beneath my bed, knowing I'd be in a frenzy if I hadn't kept my room orderly.. "What is it, Danny?"_

_"I feel sorta bad about your stuffed animals..." you told the carpets._

_I glanced back at them and grimaced. "I said it was okay, Danny," I said, pushing you out the door._

_"I could buy you some new ones," you offered. I thought that was sweet, but now you were grating my nerves._

_"I said it was fine!" I yelled as I slammed the door._

_I feel really bad that I did that, but you have to understand, Danny, I didn't want you to see me cry... For you..._

* * *

><p><em>I sighed. You were acting pretty weird. One moment your out of your mind happy, the next... your kinda a downer... I don't know what to do with you.<em>

* * *

><p><em>It hurts to see someone so close... so distant... So detached from you. It's hard to see them runaway... <em>

_It's hard to see you runaway..._

_From me..._

* * *

><p><em>I walked up the stairs of Sam's beautiful mansion. The stair case was a brimming gold and the chandelier that it "wrapped" around had many crystals that reflected rainbows onto my skin. <em>

_Sam had called me... She had told me that she was worried about you. Of course I rushed over. I didn't even drive, I ran. I ran faster than I have run in my life... Expect that last day that is... _

_Sam slammed the door behind me... and told me the news... What she thought..._

_And I couldn't believe it..._

_But... At the same time... I did..._

_Everything fell into place. The distance... The way you were... Danny? Did you even realize that, when I came home earlier... I saw them? Danny... You don't remember..._

_"Danny?" I called through the door. Loud rock music, Humpty Dumpty, played through the cracks. "Danny? I need to talk to you..."_

_You mumbled something and allowed me to enter._

_"Danny," I said, "I need to clean your wrist... From the Technus thing...?" It came out wrong, I know... But there was something off about you._

_You complied. You didn't even look at me as I removed the bandages. You didn't respond to my gasp._

_"Danny... You know this should be healed by now... Right?"_

_You became rigid. I didn't know until later you thought I had figured it out... Your secret... Your other secret, that is..._

_"Umm..." you said. "I guess there was something in that blade... of Technus'..." You laughed nervously.  
><em>

_"Are you sure, Danny? I mean, if there's something hurting you, I should know. Are you okay?"  
><em>

_"I'm fine," you mumbled and took your wrist back.  
><em>

_I should have stayed. I should have pushed the subject. I should have said _something_!_

_But, I left.  
><em>

_I let the subject lie.  
><em>

_I said... nothing...  
><em>

_And I lost my chance._

* * *

><p><em>Spectra. Yeah, I know you remember this. We both hate her. I hate her more than you could ever know, Danny...<br>_

_She made you hurt yourself...  
><em>

_And I hate her...  
><em>

_For making me snap...  
><em>

_I'm sorry, Danny... I'm sorry I made you leave...  
><em>

_I'm sorry that things happened to you...  
><em>

_I'm sorry, Danny.  
><em>

_And I love you..._

* * *

><p><strong>NOT A FILLER! IMPORTANT STUFF IN HERE. REVIEW! NO REVIEWER CHALLENGE! CAPS LOCK!<br>**


	12. Chapter 12

**NEXT CHAPTER! CAPS LOCK STILL!**

* * *

><p>I didn't hear Jazz running up from behind me or the two sets of feet trumping down the steps. All my focus was on my wrist, burying the knife deep in the soft skin, feeling the cold ectoplasm bubble and spill sweetly, staining the knife and my skin with its eerie glow. I barely even noticed the pain. But... Of course I knew I deserved it. The pain, that is. Spectra was right, I was pathetic. I couldn't stop her, Technus or even the Box Ghost. I was a pathetic freak, not a boy, not a ghost.<p>

And certainly not a hero.

Out of all I didn't hear, Sam's comanding voice refused to be one of them. "Danny!" she yelled.

Jazz made it to me and placed her hand on my shoulder. "Danny..." she whispered to me. I continued to stare at the knife balancing in the open wound. My entire arm up to my elbow was coated in the solfly glowing bodily liquid. Glowing tears soon skated down my face, the new form of shame.

"D-Danny?" It was Tucker's turn to say.

At last, I broke from my trance and pulled the knife from the goudge. I wrapped my arms around my knees and buried my face. Sobs shook my shoulders.

Jazz brought me into a hug and Sam and Tucker flew and sat beside me. I continued to cry.

"Danny, come on. Danny? Come on, let's get up. Do you want some help? Danny, you need help..." Jazz whispered. I swatted at her. "Danny! I can't see you like this, come on, please?"

I lifted my head enough for them to hear me speak. "Jazz... I don't feel good... I'm hurt..."

"Where?" she whispered lightly, the concern clouding her voice.

I slowly raised a hand to my chest and then buried my head again.

"Oh, Danny," she cried and embraced me. "Please... Get some help, little brother..."

"I'm not crazy!" I yelled at last, bringing my head back up, forgetting Sam and Tuck. I glared at Jazz, realizing how crazy I must look with strands of white hair sticking to my face refusing to let go. Jazz didn't look scared, but hurt. "I-I'm sorry..." I buried my head once again.

* * *

><p>"No!" I yelled at Jazz's suggestion.<p>

"Danny, I have to, they have a right to know-"

"No!"

"Danny!" she said more sternly. "I _have_ to, you need _help_, Danny. _Help_!"

I breathed deeply and rapidly through my mouth as I glared at the ground. "What if... What if they hate me?"

"Oh, Danny," she said, closing the distance between us with a hug, "they could never hate you..."

"I'm half of what they hate."

"Danny!" she scolded. "That's not what I meant!"

"So? It's true. They hate half of me," I argued.

Sam and Tucker remained silent.

"You can't tell them, you shouldn't even know..." I began shaking. No... They shouldn't know, we should be having this conversation. I shouldn't be here.

"No..." I whispered.

"Danny, calm down," Sam warned.

Tucker had been amazingly silent, probably shocked.

"No..." I whispered again. I dropped to the ground. "No! No more... Please..." I curled into a ball. I was in my human form. "No..."

Jazz ran up the stairs. I did nothing to stop her.

Help sounded... nice all of the sudden...

* * *

><p>She held me tightly and close to her heart. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."<p>

"It-it's okay..." I let out in a shaky sob. "B-but, I don't wanna go..."

"I know, Danny... But it's for your own good."

* * *

><p><em>He glared at me. "I shall save you, Danny... With this holy knife, demons shall no longer live within you." I was crying, but I didn't want him to know that I feared him now. But... I had no idea he was capable of this...<em>

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><p>In the movies, when someone is being taken away, they're dragged out by men in white coats.<p>

But I just though that was the movies.

Jazz had asked me to be good for them, but when it came time to go, I struggled. I didn't want to leave. I didn't want help. I was fine. See? I'm happy. Even if the smiles are gone. Now... Now that I remember it all... It was painful to smile... It hurt... It hurt so bad.

There was a crowd now, to watch me be taken to the funny farm.

The looney bin.

The cracker barn.

I heard bits of sentences.

"_Fenton's crazy?_" I believe that one is curtusy of Dash.

"_Is that the Fenton's kid?_"

"_That Danny_ _Fenton?_"

"_Oh my god, Danny Fenton's crazy!_" That one had a nice latino accent attached.

Don't the town love me?

* * *

><p>"Do you wanna listen to music?" asked one of the men in the front of this dumb rust bucket.<p>

I stayed silent. I was in the back of an ugly, but new, white van, buckled up with lock and key. To make sure I didn't jump. They had the child lock on the doors also. Yep, no way out but in. Huh? Never mind.

He turned on the radio.

Oddly enough, the song I listen to earlier, Tourniquet, was playing. Right from the beginning. I listened to the lyrics closely.

This is what I got. The girl hurt... inside... like I did, so she... Yeah. But now she's asking forgiveness from God. I'm not real religious, but... Eh. She actually just wants to die.

I know how you feel.

This whole time, I've been lying to myself. I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine. I love living. There is nothing wrong. I'm okay, I'm a hero.

What a load.

And these were my thoughts on the way to the funny farm.

* * *

><p>We made it late at night, but there were some teens milling about the lobby. When we walked in, the two men holding me by my arms, all heads turned to us.<p>

"Ha!" a kid screamed. "Told you someone new was coming!"

"A new kid?" another asked.

"You can put him down, ya know," a kid called. "He isn't exactly that tough lookin'."

I glared toward the voice and a lttle girl, about twelve, jumped up to me as they sat me down.

"Hi, I'm Lily! What's your name?"

I blinked twice. Where was I? Some kind of dream? What's a little girl doing in a teenage mental instatution in Chicago?

She smiled and cocked her head to the side, waiting for my answer. "Um... I'm Danny, nice to meet you?"

She nodded, like she knew it was nice to meet her. "Let me show you to where you gonna sleep." She grabbed my arm and dragged me down the hall, up a few steps and to the second floor. There were identical white doors up and down the hall on both sides and a flight of stairs at both ends. I looked at the girl, she wasn't serious, was she? And how would see know where my room was.

I hated the answer.

There were five doors on each wall.

"This is the boys' side," she said, pointing to the left. "And this is the girls'."

I looked to the right.

"You go into any of those rooms... and you're dead." Her tone was killer. Then she cocked her head again and said brightly, "Good night! See you tomorrow!"

"Lily? Are you up here?" a lady called form downstairs.

"Uh-oh," Lily said, running into the room on our right. I looked to my left. Next to the door was a sign. It was one of metal ones. It starts with a p... Pa, pa, pla... Oh, forget it. My name was added to the bottom.

"Lily?" the voice was closer. I paniced and flung the door open. I dropped my bag, some sort of duffle bag Jazz got me, and slammed the door shut.

"Where you going? You act like your pants are on fire," a boy a little older than me said then laughed with his friends.

Another walked up to me. "Forget them, hi, I'm Eddie. I'm guessing your new."

I nodded, realizing I was up against the door,

"Relax. We don't bite. Well, Charlie does, but only when he's hungry."

I had to ask. "Is he hungry?"

Eddie laughed. He looked about twevle. Why would someone so young be in here?

"So, what's your name?" he asked.

I looked at him and creased my eyebrows. "Danny."

"Cool, your bed's over there." He pointed to the second one form the door. The only one that was clean and made.

"Breakfast's at seven, see you then." And with that, all the boys were in bed and the lights were out.

And I was back to were I started. In the dark and completely confused.

And very lonely.

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><p><strong>Crap. That's what this is. Damn, I suck. <strong>

**Review Challenge: Ten meaningful reviews. (Meaningful meaning not "review")**


	13. Chapter 13

**Ten. :3**

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><p>I woke up the next morning expecting the deathly smell of burning breakfast to comatose me back to sleep. So, yes I was surprised when all I smelled was the cleanliness of the hospital. And I nearly freaked out when I saw beige walls and a bunch of boys getting dressed for the day.<p>

Okay, so I did freak out.

I sat in my bed hyperventalating. Where was I? What was going on?

"Danny?"

Oh yeah...

That stupid cookoo house that Jazz shoved the brouchre for down my throat. I forced myself to calm down.

"Danny, you alright?" It was that Eddie kid. He smiled. "Don't worry, Newbies always freak out their first day. At least you got some sleep."

No I didn't. I just nodded, though.

I had slept for about half an hour, which isn't all that different from what I usually get. I kept staring at the ceiling, wishing I was home. Wishing I was dead.

Morbid thoughts, anyone? Yeah...

All the boys soon left and I was alone. Daylight, early morning light, seeped in the the blinds, notifying me that it was infact morning. The door creaked open and a lady in a nurse's outfit came in and sighed in relief. "Oh, good. I thought you went down stairs for breakfast. Daniel, right? Hi, I'm LIzzie, I'm a nurse here. It's a good thing you stayed in here, but you will have to get up at seven every morning. It's healthy, you know? Now, let's see... What're you here for?"

I blinked a couple times. I was still in the bed, the blanket in my hands. I looked at her for a few more minutes.

"First days are always hard. You've been assigned your therapist. You will see her for the first week you are here. Doctor... Turner. Yes, let's go see her now." She smiled and opened the door, waiting for me to get up and follow.

"Wh-what about getting dressed? And breakfast?" I asked, laying the blanket on my lap.

"Oh... yeah. You get dressed, she will have something for you to eat." She turned her face to the door and shouted, "Lily! You help Daniel find Doctor Turner's room when he's dressed. _After_ he's dressed!" She faced me again. "She'll be out here when you're ready." I just nodded.

I stood and walked over to my duffle bag. All that was in there were my clothes. That was all they would let me bring. No toothbrush, no toothpaste, no nothin'. They provided it for you. The reason being, Jazz said, is because some of these kids are in here for drug abuse. They think you can sneak some in. That's also why they pat you down at your house and search your stuff. I'm clean. Thumbs up.

I just hoped they were _new_.

I pulled on a shirt and some jeans and walked into the hall. The little girl from last night was standing there, smiling brightly. _What's there to smile about? You're in a mental asylum, for Pete's sake!_

"Hi, Danny. You don't like to be called Daniel, do you?" she said ammediately.

I raised my eyebrows. "How'd you know?"

"You didn't say anything when Liz called you that. Don't worry, I'll call you Danny. So will Miss Turner. Follow me..." she said, waving to me to follow. We walked up a few flights of stairs. On the way, Lily told me about the place. Apparently, I was in temperary housing. Tomorrow, all the boys in that room will be moved up to the third floor. The girls would remain on the second, but fill the other rooms.

We, at last, made it to the fourth floor. Like the others, the walls were beige. There were small tables here and there with potted plants on them. It reminded me of the doctor's office. Lily brought me over to the third door to the right, D5. I looked down to her.

"This is Miss Turner's. There's food in there if your hungry. Do you even eat? Your sorta skinny. Huh! You're anerixic!"

I frowned at her. "I'm not anerixic and I'm staving," I told her. I walked in the door and looked around the room. The blinds were opened, letting the light spill in, perhaps in attempt to make this room feel less like a cubicle. The light gray walls loomed over me, giving me a sense of being crowded. There was a word for that, but I couldn't figure it out. On the far wall was a counter with what I would call an All You Can Eat Sugar Breakfast Buffet. A collage of donuts and an abundance of cookies with beverages ranging form milk to orange juice to fruit punch.

"Are you Daniel Fenton?" a roundish lady behind a wooden desk asked. I felt my eyelids drop in dissapointment, though it beats me what for.

I nodded and walked inside.

She gestured to a couch across from her. "Take a seat. Do you have a prefered name?"

"Danny," I said as sat down and brought my legs up, wrapping my arms around my stomach.

"You hungry?" she asked. I just nodded. "Well, go on, they don't bite," she said, referring to the cookies. _If my mom made them, they would._

I slowly stood and grabbed a cookie. I returned to my seat in the same fashion, and sat in the same way, nibbling on my cookie.

"So, tell me about yourself. What's your family like?" She put on a huge smile for me.

_She's trying to find out why I'm crazy,_ my mind deduced. _Well, I can't tell her I'm half ghost, and my family certainly isn't the problem. I'll have to make sure she understands that._

"I have a sister named Jazz."

"Older or younger?"

"Older, by two years."

"And how old are you?"

_Doesn't it say it in your file?_ "Fourteen." I tried to keep my bitterness out of my voice.

"Tell me about your parents. What does your dad do for a living?"

I glared at my cookie. How obnoxious, figuring that my Dad is the one and only to work. She's a single women, working. Why would she just suppose...?

"My mom and dad are ghost hunters," I told the cookie.

"Oh..." She reached in a desk drawer searching for what I presumed was my file. She probably wanted to see if I was pulling her chain. People did that, when I told them. When I was little, people thought it was cute, that I had an imagination, then my parents would tell them that they were. The conversation then would go one of three ways. Either they would walk away slowly, listen-and die-while my dad rambled, or they'd actually admit that they were interested in paranormal sciences. The last one was rare.

But now, as a fourteen-year-old, people think I'm messing with them. Or they do believe me, but the latter hardly ever happened.

Miss Turner nodded along with the information in the file. "Hmm..." she said, adressing me, "tell me about your relationship with your father..."

And this is going to go on for a week?

* * *

><p>At around eleven thirty, Doctor Turner released me for lunch. She said that after lunch, I would go with a therapy circle. Someone shot me.<p>

In the cafe (yes, cafe. They want you to seem like you're in France or something instead of a looney bin.) they sevred pizza. I got two slices, which, as they told me, was the limit.

I glanced around the room, noting how eeriely similar it was in distrabution like my school one. Stoners, drama geeks, nerds (Nerds? Why's a nerd here?), even jocks. There was even a table that I'd fit at.

And a table I'd be comfortable at. An _empty_ one. I placed my tray down adn began eating.

_Padump!_ Someone sat right across from me. Slowly, and aggitatedly, I raised my eyes.

A skinny boy about my age with longish platnium blond hair and dark clothing smiled cruelly. His brown eyes were rimmid with black eyeliner, a fitting look, ironically. He said, "Hey, Newbie. What ya in for?"

I lowered my pizza and raised an eyebrow. Was this guy for real?

He waved a hand in front of my face. "Anybody in there?"

Just as he said this, the kid form last night, Eddie, walked up saying, "Hey, Danny. Oh, _hi_, Kevin..." Did I detect some bitterness in his voice? Or was that my imagination?

"Hey, shirmp cakes. Getting cozy with the Newbie?" Kevin said, standing.

Eddie's face flushed. "Just go away, Kevin!"

The boy raised his hands in mock defense. "Alright, alright. I'm going. And Newbie," he said, getting my attention, "catch you later." I narrowed my eyebrows.

"Don't mind Kevin. He's been here longer than most kids. I heard he's created this group, like some sort of revalution. Crazy, right?" he said, sitting down.

"Who's all in it?" I asked, my curiosity besting me.

"He only lets cutters in. That's all I know." He began to eat his pizza, biting into the crust side first. People in the city are so weird, I thought, biting into mine, pointy side first.

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><p><strong>yawn... so tired... gonna... colasp. OOF!<strong>

**Ow... **

**Review Challenge: Pick the funniest part of this chapter. (yes, im working on my Snarky!Danny. :D)**


	14. Chapter 14

**Hello, my nutterballs. It is a fine day for a new chapter, so here you go. Italics are obviously flashbacks and thoughts and I hope you like the new characters. I'm giving you alot to chew in this lovely chapter, enjoy!**

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><p>It had only been fifteen minutes into the circle and I wanted to jump off the top of the building.<p>

And here I thought they were suppose to make me _not_ want to kill myself.

After lunch, Eddie asked me who my Circle Leader was and said he would walk with me to Circle. He said that in Circle, kids had all different types of "problems." There were Druggies (duh), Stravers (what Lily thought I was), Biters (remember that kid, Charlie? Yeah...), Mentals (Which is what I thought we all were, but I guess it is worse than this), Suicide Watched (self explainratory, really) and the ever famed Cutters. For some reason, they were like the outcasts of these outcasts. They were lower than I was in high school.

So, Lucky Me.

"So, whatcha in for?" Eddie asked, like how Kevin did earlier. I don't know why they always said it like people do in jail movies. I wondered if in jail, they ranked you by your crime.

Pediphiles would _so_ be on the bottom.

Great, I was the equalivent to a Pediphile.

And speaking of jail movies, where was that kid that can get you anything you want?

I wondered if he had anything sharp and shiney on him.

"Yo, _Danny_, are you listening?" I finally actually looked at Eddie. He was short, granted, but a bit wide in the girth. He's blond bangs dropped in the way of his eyes, which were a shade of blue darker than mine.

I was bluntly honest, for whatever reason. "No, not really." It felt out of character for me, so I continued, "Sorry..."

"Nah, that's alright. At least you admitted it. Some people don't."

I nodded, like I understood. Which, I guess, I sorta did in a way.

He walked up to a polished wooden door, identical to the rest, with a TADA! movement, declaring, "Miss Sunshine's room, Danny-boy!"

"Miss _Sunshine_?" I asked, ignoring the joke reference to the song, like I haven't been delt it before, like by my dad. Who knows, maybe that was his favorite song, I do know that he named me, a deal Mom and him made when they got married.

Eddie snorted, "Oh yeah, she's a peach..."

I gave him a doubtful look.

"After you, my good sir, Danny-boy," he said, gesturing to the now open door. I peered in and caught glimpes of a co-ed circle.

Ans Miss Sunshine.

She _was_ like the fricking sun, radiating her "I'll help you, little one" so strong I could feel it out in the hall. I could also feel the "I'm better, smarter, older..." yaddah yaddah "than you."

Oh, yeah, I'm gonna love her, like Miss Turner, like Mister Lancer.

Like the stomach flu, or a nice hornet sting.

* * *

><p>"Daniel?" Miss Sunshine's voice broke through my memory, the only thing keeping me from jumping out the window to my right. "Aren't you going to share with the group?"<p>

I continued to stare out said window.

"Dan! iel..." You could hear it, the anger in the "Dan" and the forced pleasentry in the "iel." I wished she'd stop saying that. I breathed in a deep breath and turned to her slowly.

"Would you like to share?" More forced kindness filled her barely mature voice, seeing as how she probably got out of college last year or so.

"What?" I asked. "My crap of a life? The reason my sister sent me to this hellhole? Or my prefered name, 'cause you obviously don't know it." Okay, I don't know where "hellhole" came from, because I'm not a fan of cussing, but the rest was from the heart. I leveled a glare onto her.

A small chorus of "oo"s came from the co-ed circle as they turned to Miss Sunny to see her reaction.

Miss Sunshine, whose real name was really a Japanese name, Miss Suou, composed herself and ran her fingers through her shoulder-blade-length blond hair, closing her light blue eyes. "Daniel... If there is something you want to say, please do say it..." She looked me straight in the eye.

All these years of having a future pyshco-analist for an older sister taught me a few things on reading people and body language. Normally, people would take her look for a "I want to help you, so let me..." kind of look. I knew better, her look really meant "I am above you, so if you have something to say about me, you best keep it to yourself and give me a reason to seem like I'm a good person..." which I wasn't going to do.

I smiled—smirked—sweetly and played dumb. Or, in other words, I didn't listen to the look.

"Alright, Miss Sunny! I'm outta here, bitch." Again, the cussing wasn't me, but it felt right to add it at the last moment before standing up and walking out the door.

Hey, it's better than the window, right?

* * *

><p>Eddie raced after me following my outburst in the circle. "Danny! Wait up! Hey," he said once he made it to my seething form, "what got into you?"<p>

I shook my head, hoping to rid myself of the anger residing there and the rest of my body. "Oh, I don't know. She just got under my skin..."

"With her 'smarter than you' attitude?"

I simply nodded.

At that moment, a lady with long blond hair turned the corner, looking like she was from a different time zone. I wasn't sure if she was one of those ghosts who only other ghosts could see until I noticed Eddie acknowledged her as well. She looked like a walking Flash Back to the Eighties convention, like a hippie. But there was something off about her, I noted, adn that's when I saw the skulls. Skull earrings, a skull necklace, three little skulls on her belt. She was like Sam, but instead of a Goth with a Hippie side, she was a Hippie with a Goth side.

More evidence was her lipstick, bloodred on the top, black on the bottom.

She stopped and smiled at me—at _me—_and said, "Hey, kid, what's got you so angry?"

I was confused a bit because, sure, I was still mad, but I knew it didn't show as much anymore, it probably looked invisible now.

She looked at me for a moment before looking right at the door Eddie and I walked out of, E14. "Dammit, Suou!" she muttered. "It was her, wasn't it?" She turned back to me.

"H-how'd you know?" I asked, a bit shell-shocked.

"Simple, she's the root of all evil..." She smiled to me after speaking to the door. "And you're easy to read, kid."

She walked a few steps to the door, and Eddie called out to her, "What're you doing?"

"Wishing I could slap the supriority out of her," she said without turning. She spun on her wedged heels and smiled her red and black lips. "And it was nice to finally meet you, Danny..."

* * *

><p>I paced back and forth in front of the door to our temperary room, Eddie's eyes watching me. "I just don't understand..." I muttered.<p>

Eddie sighed, for I had said that at least five times before that last one. "What?" he finally asked.

"How she knew my name..." I was still muttering, still pacing.

"Maybe she read your file?" he attempted.

"No, even if she did, she wouldn't know it was _me_, they don't include pictures." I stopped pacing to rub the back of my neck, then continued.

"... Look, man, just forget it," he said after not finding anymore theories. We were the only ones in the room, it still being Circle for the rest of the building. Miss Sunny had called "upper management"—a janitor, haha, get it?—to ascort us to the Detentionary Room, but I had talked her into having him take us to the room instead. I called it skill, Eddie called "some lucky shit." I had to agree, it partly was.

I sighed and slid down the wall. "Yeah, I guess I should."

Eddie smiled. "That's the giving up spirit!"

I frowned. I didn't want to give up... I mean, how could she know my name? Was she a ghost, and recognized me as Danny Phantom? It could be, seeing as how before I left, Jazz disrupted my powers. She said she trusted me, because I had promised to stay until I got better that night before I left, but she didn't want me tempted. It felt like she was killing a bit of me, or pausing it.

My frown deepened as I remembered that night. It was a night I loved and hated so much. I despised it's need, but I loved it content. I hated the good-byes, but I loved them, too.

* * *

><p><em>Jazz held me to her chest, muffling my sobs. She sobbed into my messy, unbrushed hair, "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."<em>

_"It-it's okay..." I let out in a shaky sob. "B-but, I don't wanna go..."_

_"I know, Danny... But it's for your own good." She pulled me from her chest to look into her teal, watery eyes. My heart was breaking into more than just two pieces. Once this was done, once I came home, it would be in too many tiny pieces to mend, I would be broken._

_More than I already was._

_"I-I know..." It was so hard to speak, Jazz... "I-I just d-don't wanna..."_

_You broke then, and brought me back to your chest._

* * *

><p><em>The next morning, it was time to say my good-byes, tears were still prominate in my dulling blue eyes, like they didn't—couldn't—leave from last night.<em>

_They probably didn't. _

_I stared at my mother—oh, my mother! I couldn't face her, I couldn't face her dissapointment. She walked up to me and lifted my chin to see my face, tears brimming over and causing her violet irises to shine in the dim mid-morning light. "Why...?" she whispered to my shaking form. "You know you can tell me anything, so why not what made you do... this..."_

Because you'd hate me, _I said mentally. I said nothing verbally, but my physical body language could not be silenced. She released my chin and I let my head droop to my chest, eyes downward in shame. _

_Dad remained silent, but that hurt as much as Mother's chatizing. "I'm sorry," I whispered to the ground._

_It was you, always you, that came with me from the pits of hell and helped me. "There's nothing to be sorry for," Jazz said, smiling softly at me, while Mom and Dad couldn't bare to look me in the eye. "It's not your fault." You kissed me on the forehead and brought me into a hug. I couldn't help but think this, what I was going away for, was a normal person problem._

_That lightened me, but not as much as you, sis._

_The men noted it was time for me to go, and I fought them, even when I promised you I would go quietly. And when I looked at you, with the stinging whispers of people noticing my—_our—_perdicament, I expected to see shame and dissapointment._

_Instead I saw that amazing but sad smile that could only belong to Jazz Fenton._

_You don't know how much I love you, how much I need you, big sister._

* * *

><p>Eddie sighed. "Finally! I can't believe we're roomates, that's just too awesome!" I smiled at him and then to the door that was ours. There, of course, was actually <em>four<em> boys to a room, but once we read "Edison Boyd" and "Daniel Fenton" we didn't bother to read the other two names.

I pushed open the white wood door and peered in at the beige walls. It was just like the room we had downstairs, but there was only the four necassary beds and it was a bit smaller. "Sweet," Eddie said, noting the beds were bigger.

"I call the closest to the door!" he yelled before I could and ran past me, jumping onto said bed. I smiled and took the one next to it on the same side of the room.

"Say, why do you want the one next to the door anyway?" I smirked and leaned closer to him to mess with his head.

His face flushed red, which I was getting used to, as he stumbled for the words. "I-I, uh, I..."

"I'm just messing with you. I don't really care." He gave me a grateful smile as his face started to return to normal pigment, pale, with some freckles.

Just as I was going through my duffle bag and fold clothing because this room actually_had_ a dresser, the door opened for one of our new roomies.

* * *

><p>Now, hate is a strong term. So is love, might I add. But hate is a strong enough word for how Eddie and I felt about our new friend.<p>

"Hey, Newbie, hey, Shrimpo," the blond said, leaning against the door frame.

"You!" Eddie said, jumping to his feet and dropping his Kansas City Chief's T-shirt to the floor, which I thought was odd to own in Illinios, because wasn't that a Missouri team? Or a Kansas one? "What are you doing in here?" He was starting to redden again.

Kevin's gaze had found me in the middle of Eddie's outburst and I squimed under it. His eyes, thankfully, flicked over to Eddie. "This is my room, too, ya know. Can't you read, dumbass?"

Eddie crossed his arms and lowered a glare onto Kevin as he crossed the room to the bed across from mine. Two thoughts crossed my mind: _Dammit! Why'd he have to choose that one? _and _Sucks that the other guy doesn't get to choose his own bed, but when your last, your last. Not much I can do._

So, Kevin, Eddie and I remained silent as we folded our clothing and put them into our respective dressers.

Man, I hoped the other guy wouldn't be like Kevin.

* * *

><p>At dinner, which was just a sandwich and salad, if we so chose, I thought of all the food they served us here. I mean, I wasn't exxpecting gorment dishes or anything, but a sandwich? For dinner? I thought that was a bit cheap.<p>

And that's what I told Eddie.

"Maybe they're planning a big dinner tomorrow," he theorized as he gnawed on his ham and cheese. "They usually have spagetti or something, so I thought this was a bit weird too."

I nodded and sighed as I picked at the round piece of bologna on my own sandwich. What a funny word, bologna. I didn't even like bologna that much.

I thought about the new roommate. He still hadn't come in before we had left for the cafe. What would he be like?

My hopes, the polar opposite of Kevin.

When we walked into the room, there he was, on the untaken bed, fold his clothes. He looked about two years older than me, but he was extemely skinny. Hey, maybe _he_ was an aneroxic. His dark brown hung in his eyes, but the back of it was short, like mine. From the sliver of iris I could see, his eyes were a dark blue, like... _Vlad's_...

Eddie amediately walked up to him and said, "Hi, I'm Eddie."

The other boy was obviously startled, probably not used to excitable people like Eddie. He composed himself quickly, though, and murmured to the ground, "Cole," and stuck out his hand. Eddie happily took it and shook with Cole, three times, fast, up and down... Cole was a but shaken up and startled again. I walked up to them.

"Hey, I'm Danny, nice to meet you." I took my hand out of my pocket and stuck it out as well. Cole calmed down and took it in his own. I smiled.

Of course, the only person who could ruin a moment as calm as this is the one and only Kevin Gennings.

The door slammed open, hitting the wall, catching all of our attention. Kevin smiled crulely to the other two, but became blank for the milisecond his eyes flicked over my face.

"'Sup, ladies?" he asked, composing himself as he crossed the room like he owned it, and ploped onto his bed. We had an hour of free time to do whatever—that doesn't include the pretty sharp things—before lights out at eight. We could go to the Commons Room and watch T.V. or stay in our rooms. I wanted as far away from Kevin and his odd looks at me I could get, so I opted for the Commons Room and said good-bye to Eddie and Cole.

"Seeya, dude," Eddie said. "I think I'm gonna stay here and read my comics." Cole nodded to me.

"I..." He looked up momentarily to me. "I'll join you in a minute..." I smiled and nodded before walking out the door.

The Commons Room was, I discovered, another co-ed place in here. I saw Lily and walked over to her, desperate for a familar face.

She was sitting on the couch in front of the T.V. watching a colorful cartoon with fairies on the screen. She smiled brightly and decleared, "Danny!" She jumped on her bottom to the side of the couch to give me room. "Hey! How was Miss Turner? Was she a butt or what?" She laughed at her own ryhme.

"Don't you know it, but I had more problems with Miss Suou." I sat back into the cushions and watched a fairy with red hair throw fire at a guy I presumed evil.

"_Oh_...!" Lily said, her cartoon completely forgotten to her. "She's the biggest butt of them all, but her _real_ butt isn't as big as Miss Turner's." I had to snort at such true information. Miss Suou actually was skinny though.

"Hey, got any room for one more?" a feminine voice asked. I turned to see a girl about my age with long black hair. Her dark clothing prompted me to believe she was a Goth, like Sam, and maybe that lady from yesterday.

Her question wasn't adressed to me, though, and from the look on Lily's face, she wasn't too bothered that it was for her. Quite the opposite, actually.

"Sadie!" she screamed and jumped up to hug the older girl. She laughed and embraced Lily. "You're back!" Lily said excitedly, then her face fell. "But why?"

She smiled to the younger girl. "I just can't stay away from you, kid." Lily smiled brightly once more and grabbed the older girl's hand.

"This is Danny, he's my new friend," she said, introducing me. I stood and wiped my hond on my pant leg then stuck it out for her, careful as always that it was my right and not my left.

She smiled and took it firmly. "Sadie." She stated her named like it was stating the day of week, like a fact. I nodded. Her brown eyes held a sparkle. "I see you've meet the little trouble maker." In that sentence, I detected a British accent hiden in the word "maker." I nodded once more. "Come on, Bobble Head, let's watch some T.V." There it was again, but more pronouced.

"What is it that we're watching anyway?" I asked, sitting on the couch again, in the same position as when I was in Miss Turner's lovely little room. Ephansis on _little_.

"Not sure," she commented, and the accent was as clear as day. She turned and smiled at me. "So, why are you here, anyway?"

I lowered my head, but kept my eyes trained on her. "I could ask you the same thing."

"Relaspe," she said ammediately.

I glared. "Hey! You could be honest, you know."

She shrugged. "And so could you, instead of dodging my questions."

She had a point, a good one. "Alright, answer mine then I'll answer your's." Lily was completely consumed with her cartoon, so contradictory to just a few minutes ago.

"But I asked first."

"Come on, you know it's a good deal." Here I was, bartering with a girl I hardly knew. If Sam was here, she would have bested her already.

"I suppose... Alright..." She glanced around like we were being watched. "... But this information is sensitive, for special ears only, can I trust you?"

I quirked an eyebrow. "Wha—"

She got in my face. "Can I trust you?" she harshly whisper, cutting me off.

"Yes! Just... get out of my face..." She smiled like she won a secret battle.

"Alright..." Once again, she looked about us. "Follow me." She grabbed my arm, dragging me out of the Commons Room.

"Woah! Wait!" I cried as she wheeled me around the corner.

"No time, you wanted to know..." Great, so this was _my_ fault.

She ran to the closest closet and shoved me in, joining after she looked back and forth twice for witnesses.

"Are you _trying_ to creep me out?" I asked as soon as she closed the door to this cramped room.

"Usually," she answered, and, as far as I could tell, honestly at that. "But... I can tell that I can trust you with this little... secret." Yet again, I quirked an eyebrow.

"You know a Kevin Gennings?" she whispered.

I felt my eyes go green, if you catch my drift. "Yeah, so?"

"Did you see that? Oh, never mind..." She went back to the subject on hand. "Ever heard of a club of his?"

Why did I suddenly feel sick? "Yeah... so?" I said less confidently.

She flipped over her left wrist. Lining it up and down, zig-zags of angry scars that could have been only caused by an angry or sad person, like... yourself.

She was a cutter.

"Oh... _that_ club..." I was definitely sick now.

"It's not that bad, it's not like it hurts so... much... That's not why you look so pale... Is it?" I simply shook my head, which I was doing a lot of. "Then... why?"

And just like lightning, she grabbed my left hand in hers, the hand I had been working so hard to hide. She flipped it over and gasped. "Oh... wow... This is... Um... _different_..."

I freaked a bit. "Different?" I asked, snatching it back quickly. "How so?"

"Well, usually it's not one super deep one, but a bunch of ones... Did it hurt?"

I pointed to her own wrist and said bitterly, "Did _that_?"

She glanced at it. "Of course it did," she hissed. "That's the point."

"Then why ask me?"

She blinked, visibly softening. "Good point."

"Besides, if you didn't know I was... _that_... then why did you trust me with Kevin's little club."

"Because... I suspected..."

"_Oh_, I see, you _thought_ I was a... Cutter," there, I forced my self to say it, "because what? I looked like one? Talked like one? Acted like one?"

"Because _Kevin_ suspected you were!" she finally shouted, looking as if she had released a bunch off her chest.

I stood. "Oh, I get it, you're his Collector of some sort. Or a messager. Well here's a message for him, I'm not interested." I put my hand on the door knob and twisted it, more light peering in through the now larger crack.

Her voice stopped me. "Good, I didn't come to tell you to join, I came to tell you _not_ to join."

With that, she stood and stalked past me, leaving the questions to buzz in my head.

* * *

><p>I walked back to my room trying to answer the ever growing pile of inquiries. Who was that girl? What did she know about Kevin?<p>

Why _didn't_ she want me to join Kevin's stupid Cutter's Club?

I was so immersed in my thoughts I didn't see Cole as I passed him.

Or the door I walked into.

"_Ow_..." I moaned, holding my injured nose.

Cole passed me, head down muttering, "I was going to tell you about the door, but I guess you found it."

I grimaced at him and walked into our room, head spinning from my little adventure.

It was about an hour into lights out that I realized I was never going to get to sleep. I sighed loudly and flipped over with my back to the windows, face to the door.

Eddie moaned and flipped over to face me. "Can't get to sleep?" he whispered.

I shook my head.

"Wanna talk?"

"About what?" I whispered back.

"Dunno, why are you here?"

I sighed, the last time I played this game, I ended up walking into a door, without the assistance of ghost powers. "Why are _you _here?" I countered.

He turned and looked up to the ceiling. "Um... promise not to tell?"

I was quick to say, "Promise." Like I always was.

He glanced at me, then back to the oh so interesting popcorn ceiling. "My dad wasn't the best man, and my mother wasn't the mother of the year, either." He peer at me through his bangs. Back to the ceiling, his eyes went. "They were into... bad things."

I caught on quickly. "Like drugs."

He gulped and nodded. "Like drugs. My sister had it hard, too."

"Oh, really?" I whispered into the dark between us, curiousity sparking in my mind.

"Yeah... She's, like sixteen now. She... did bad things..."

"Like drugs?"

He shook his head. "No... she... hurt herself..."

My eyes widen. "Oh..." I could related. "But... what about you...?"

"Remember ol' good Mommy and Dearest Daddy?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

... Oh...

"I take your silence as a 'I get it now'!"

I swallowed. "Um... How?"

"Mommy..." He shut his eyes tight. "Your turn..."

My turn? "M-my turn?" I asked outloud.

"Yeah, I shared, now you share. Were your parents terrible?"

My eyes widened. "What? No! They're lovely people!" Except for trying to kill me...

"Really? Wow, aren't you lucky. So... why are you here?"

I gulped and tried to find a way to stall. Thankfully, I was saved by the Cole.

He sat up in his bed and stared at the two of us. His glance was calculating, like he could know anything with that one glance. His voice was soft, his words to the ground. "You two are already good friends, aren't you?"

So, he could know anything. I nodded for us, but I think Eddie was too shocked to find out he probably heard everything he had said, I could tell he was mortified. From here, the beet red was obvious.

"So..." Cole muttered. "Do you think... you have room for one more?" He was timid as he asked, making me think he never had friends before... Which, to be brutally honest, sucked.

I glanced at Eddie as he glanced at me, figuring the answer would be a mutual yes.

I was wrong.

Eddie looked away, a bit of betrayal in his eyes. "Sure, if you tell us why _you're_ here." A meaningful glare was sent in my direction for a brief second.

Cole looked hurt and shooked by that request, his face could be fully seen in the moonlight, the blinds making it so only lines of it appeared on our skin. He looked down again. "Yeah... Not that hard to answer... You see, I'm here because I'm aneroxic." So I was right. "And a bit bipolar." Did that qualify for "Mentals"?

Eddie nodded. He turned back to me sharply. "See, that wasn't hard." I instinctively moved my left arm closer to me, feeling like I had to protect it and my secret. But it was already out of the bag.

I lowered it to my lap and sighed. "Alright..." I muttered. "I'm... I'm a..." I suddenly got frustrated at myself. "I did this!" I whisper-shouted and showed them my wrist. I can't believe I let him bully me into this, I guess I felt guilty.

I heard them gasp and the russling sheets of someone stiffening. I looked at the two of them, trying to see which one it was, but they didn't seem as tense as I felt.

* * *

><p><em>He did what?<em> Kevin thought as he heard Danny shout out. _Did he..._ No... He was sure Torn or one of his followers would have told him.

He heard the smaller one, Eddie, speak, "S-so... you're a _Cutter_?"

It was a second before Danny responded, and Kevin figured he was ducking his head.

"Yeah..." Another pause. "I just didn't want you guys to hate me, for some reason, people here aren't too keen on people like me." Danny cleared his throat.

"Oh, come on, man. There is only one dude like you I hate, and that's Kevin."

Well, he didn't come here for friends, so the comment didn't sting.

* * *

><p>I was grateful Eddie didn't hate me, but Cole had remained silent for too long for my comfort. I turned to look at him and said, "What about you? Do you mind?"<p>

Cole cocked his head to the side. "Why would I? I don't see anything wrong with it, obviously you're not here because you just couldn't stay away from crazy people like me. No worries." I became less tense at that. If I was going to be stuck here for who-knows-how long, at least I wasn't going to do it alone.

I lay back down and pulled the blanket up. I wasn't going to get any sleep tonight, that I knew, but at least I could close my eyes and I wouldn't be alone in the dark, Cole and Eddie were there with me. Except, there was a shadow lurking there, too, because even when I was alone, I wasn't. Someone else was—is—there, lurking, and waiting to strike.

* * *

><p><strong>Whoo! 5,497 words, my longest yet. Consider this a birthday present for my Ckitty, and for you! Oh, shit, I forgot her present!<strong>

**Okay, a bit of explaining, that girl, Sadie, is NOT a love interest. As you can see, she is a Cutter and she's in Kevin's group. Girls are typically cutters, and all I have are boy ones, so I needed a girl. I gave her a friendship with Lily, cause that girl is so damn cute! I wanted to introduce the last three characters, Cole, Sadie, Torn and that lady who knew Danny's name. Ah, I see you have noticed I wrote four names, not three. Well, I guess that means that one of them goes by the name Torn as well as her real name. That's all I'm saying on the subject...**

**Reviewer Challenge: A question for me to gnaw on, and what you think is gonna happen. I gave you alot to work with.**

**Review, my lovelies!**


	15. Chapter 15

All stories of mine are discontinued, sorry for any inconvenience this provides.


	16. Admends and the Temporary End

The clock ticked by in a continuous manner that worked like Chinese water torture, taking my sanity with well timed flicks of the hands, two sticks working their way around the circle of white, black numbers imbedding into my brain with a _tick tick tick, can't stop can't stop, can someone help me? _

I, the hero, the kid who let the world slumber on his shoulders, who offered Atlas a reprieve, was shattering. Falling and unable to free himself.

Did I make it up? Is this a real world? When I open my eyes, I see white, and black, but no grays.

* * *

><p><strong>There. Have some story, sorta. I know you want to know what happens, and I had something amazing planned, but I've fallen out of the fandom. I just don't like writing for other's creations when I can create for myself. I have OCs and stories I want to write. If you guys are interested in those my dA is ckittykatty. deviantart. com without the spaces. I know most of you probably only want to read about Danny, but if you actually like MY writing, then it's ten times better than the crap on here.<strong>


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